


Watching You Speak (Rewrite)

by kawaiite



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Bakery, Disability, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mentions of suicidal tendencies, Minor Violence, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Bokuaka, Rejection, Self Confidence Issues, Sexual Manipulation, Sign Language, Single Father, Slice of Life, Suga has an implied crush on Tobio, Tobio doesn't really have common sense, Trauma, Trust Issues, hearing impaired character, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-10-16 10:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17548415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiite/pseuds/kawaiite
Summary: Tobio Kageyama is a tattooed, ex-religious man, disowned by his parents. Fate ties a string between him and Shouyou Hinata, a deaf baker. Their lives are complete opposites. What else is there to do except fall in love? (HIATUS)





	1. The Storm Before The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This story is a rewrite of one I published a few years ago, by the same name. I figured to give it the same title, because the story itself is still the same, but this time I want to revamp it and finish it. I wanted to give these two idiots the ending they deserve. Anyway, if you're a new reader, welcome, and if you're here from my announcement I left on the original story, welcome and enjoy this rewrite! Thank you for your support. I hope you enjoy my story.

I grew up conservative. From a young age, I was taught to say my please and thank you’s, save sex until marriage, wear no tattoos, not to drink, smoke, or stand out. I was taught to be what my parents thought was “normal”. I remember I hated wearing my array of khakis and dress shirts, buttoned so tight they choked me. I wasn’t to flaunt my skin, even in high school. One day in my senior year, my mother scolded me for wearing basketball shorts because of the scorching heat, telling me that the whores at my school were going to ogle me from that day on, and because of my poor choice, it was going to distract me from my studies and extra-curriculars.

But I knew I was different, I knew I was gay. I didn’t care about any kind of girl. I couldn’t tell my parents, so I accepted my scolding and never wore revealing clothing around them again until I moved away.

I hate the way I was taught to live. As a teen trying to rebel against the system without offending their parents, I channeled my frustrations and anger into the palms of my hands and played volleyball. It was one of the few things I was allowed to do, as long as I was back before curfew and let my mother smell my breath for traces of alcohol.

Months after graduating high school, I met a boy in an official match. It was huge - made the local news. He was on the opposing team, had glasses strapped to his bleach blonde head and was tall as all hell. I recall vividly, in the era of when I was beginning to struggle with coming out, I watched that boy’s thighs instead of tracking the ball. He’d smirk at me and watch me as I served, and would block me if I spiked. I remember the way he pushed me against the bathroom stall wall and groped me, eating my neck and throat like it was candy. Because of him, my team lost the match and dropped me. Volleyball was my passion, but he alone was my passion, as well. I chose him. I was living out my fantasy I had been dreaming of since I realized I wasn’t “normal”.

He lived a few blocks down from where I lived, so I invited him over constantly. We’d practice volleyball together in my backyard, watch videos together, and listen to each other’s music. The second time we had sex, my parents caught us and he told me he wasn’t going to talk to me anymore. I was heartbroken. I was disowned. I was kicked out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

I stroke my daughter’s hair, her head in my lap and her favourite stuffed bird tucked into her chest. Mindless cartoons reflect on her beautiful pink cheeks, and her eyes begin to close. As gentle as I can, I sigh through my nose and scoop her up into my arms and whisk her away to her bedroom. Her small hand curls into my shirt just as I kiss her forehead and tuck her in snugly. With her whimsical, sleepy eyes, she looks up at me and tells me she loves me.

It’s something I knew my parents had never experienced.

When I adopted Kaori days after her birth, I told her I’d vow to treat her as best I could. I wouldn’t push my parents’ views on her, she wouldn’t deserve that. In all honesty, I don’t think I’ve gone a day without telling her I loved her. Aside from volleyball, she’s the only thing I couldn’t go without. She picks her own clothes, she models her bright pink Barbie shirts and and jeans to me and I cheer her on. She’s so happy. At only five, she’s what I wish I would’ve been up into my teen years.

Every day is the same routine and it never seems to get old. Kaori wakes me up at 7 o’clock with the sound of her playing in her room, we make breakfast, I take her to school and go to work. Contrary to my volleyball hobby, I manage a local tattoo parlour. It’s simply another check off the list entitled “Why My Parents Hate Me”, and what makes it even better are my twin sleeves and tattoos freckled across my chest. I’m an artist, I’m well-known in my community, and not to be an asshole, but I’m appreciated and loved... okay, it was just to be an asshole.

Although, today’s a little different. Kaori clings to my arm as I try to drop her off at school as per usual, and her teacher, Ittetsu, pats her head and assures her that today will be an extra fun day. He says it every morning. I don’t know if she realizes that it’s just a regular school day or not, especially since they’ve been practicing to write lately. How is that fun? Ittetsu, with only words, pries Kaori off my arm and I start to stand as she runs away and talks with her friends.

“Sorry. She can be a handful sometimes.” I say, slipping my thumbs into my pockets. Ittetsu smiles and shakes his head, lacing his fingers together, hanging his arms in front of himself. We gaze into the classroom, standing in the doorway, watching the kids mingle and scream.

“Kaori’s tame compared to most of the children. She misses you the moment she can’t see you, you know?” He sighs, looks at me and stands in the way of the view of the classroom. I cock an eyebrow and drop my hands from my pockets. “You’re a great father, Tobio. I know you doubt yourself, I can see it in your eyes everyday.”

“I…” Words fail to formulate and my eyes widen, then soften and droop. Expressing my feelings to others has never been my strong suit. “I love her so much. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

Ittetsu reaches out and touches my forearm and I flinch out of my reverie. He smiles softly and curls his hand, squeezing, reassuring.

“She loves you. I don’t think there’s much else to worry about.”

There has always been a nagging voice in the back of my head. The situation doesn’t matter. It’s always there, patiently watching and waiting to tell me my doubts. She’s not your real daughter. She’s not going to love you forever. She’s going to want to find her real parents one day. When she’s older, she’s going to realize that it takes a man and a woman to have a child and hate you because you lied to her about being her dad.

She’s going to hate you because you’re with another man.

She’s going to find your parents.

She’s going to hate you.

In my car, I reach fervently over to the glove box and press an old napkin to my face. The sweat soaks right through. My body rapidly pulses in time with my heartbeat; I feel like I’m on fire. I can barely hear my own thoughts, my blood pounds in my ears and I feel like helpless foliage in a horrible wind. I take long, trembling breaths in an attempt to ease my nerves.

I drop the napkin in my lap and run my hands through my hair, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel.

I think about volleyball.

I feel the ball dropping like a feather into my hands and shoot it back into the air, revelling in a teammate’s tremendous spike. We’re in the lead. I’m exhilarated. I remain as setter by the net, not even noticing that unconsciously, my feet move as I track the ball. Someone bumps to our opponents, they bump, set, spike, and score. We’re tied. I return to my place and slowly drag my eyes up.

He’s there.

He smirks at me and suddenly grabs my jersey by the collar, drags me across the gymnasium and throws me against a wall. The game resumes, and I hear the squeaking of shoes against the hardwood and competitive yells.

The breath is taken from my throat as he shoves his knee against my crotch, tickling my abdomen with his fingers underneath my shirt. My jaw slacks, watching him in horror. He leans in slowly, maintaining eye contact until his head is beside mine and blows smooth air into the shell of my ear before twisting and curling his tongue around it. I grab his shoulders. I mean to push him away but I’m so weak that I can’t.

My teammates slow their movements to a crawl and stop yelling. I dart my eyes to the opposite side of the court to watch what’s happening, but the competing team is gone. The boy continues his assault on my senses and grinds against me, moving his mouth down to my jaw and neck.

In unison, my team stands in place and turn their heads towards the boy and I. I’ve lost control of my body, I can’t do anything. They all stare at me. Shadows consume the ground and I sink to the floor. The boy’s gone.

“You’re done.” They chant monotonously.

“You’re done. You’re done. You’re done.” I chant through clenched teeth, hot tears trickling down my cheeks. I rock in my seat, curled into myself as I sob as hard as I can, gasping for breath between cries.

I abruptly feel an intense vibration from my pocket. I jolt in surprise and sit up quickly, trying to settle my breathing, wipe my face with my sleeves, and clear my throat before fishing for my phone. I look to see who it is. It’s one of my coworkers.

Fuck.

He asks where I am and when I’ll get to the shop. I answer with nothing but “twenty minutes,” and hang up as I start to hear him speaking further. I toss my phone onto the passenger seat, take a minute to breathe, wipe my face clean with another napkin, and feel ashamed with myself that I just had an emotional breakdown in the parking lot of my daughter’s school.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Pulling into the complex where my work resides, the lot is packed to the brim and I wordlessly thank whoever invented staff parking. I glance through the window of the shop before I drive around back, somewhat glad to see that we were dead enough to have almost all the boys up front, fucking around.

The bell above the door rings as I enter and I’m bombarded with greetings and unnecessarily loud music. I wince, glancing to Kuroo behind the counter and swipe my hand across my neck a few times. I set my jacket upon a chair in the waiting room and hear myself sigh just as the music is cut short.

Bokuto joins me in the lobby, pats my shoulder and takes a seat in front of the array of tattoo magazines we have scattered on the display table. I’m too exhausted to even get on his case about it. Although he never really tidied the waiting room, he was an exquisite artist and therefore spent most of his time with appointments. I’ve known him since high school, and actually played quite a few games of volleyball with him. He was there for me when I came out to him, as shameful as I was back then. He and I hung out a lot after he confided in me as well, and came out to me in return.

I also have a bad habit of referring to both of them by their family name instead of their first name. I get them confused together, even in my head. At least they don’t care.

“Tobio, man, you look like shit. You okay?” Bokuto glances my way before returning his attention back to the magazines.

“Yeah! Sorry, dude, but I’ve gotta agree.” Kuroo chimes in from across the room, leaning against the reception desk with his chin in his hand. “You sounded like shit on the phone too.”

Unlike Bokuto, I met Kuroo online about five years ago. I was commissioning drawings at the time for extra money and he asked me for drawings almost on a weekly basis. He and I kept in touch and we soon met up after talking. We discussed work, hobbies, life, relationships, and the first time I met him I came out to him. He said he didn’t give a shit and told me to just live my life. I’ve been trying my hardest to live by that ever since.

I glare down Kuroo and roll my eyes when he winks at me. I force my eyes away from his and watch Bokuto half-heartedly flip through one of the many editions of Skin Deep we hoard. The specific edition he’s flicking through only models people of the LGBTQ+ community, and it’s my personal favourite. It’s stupid, but among my array of volleyball magazines, I have it by my bedside and read through it sometimes when I can’t sleep.

“... Have we had any customers today?” I ask. Kuroo gazes through the front windows boredly humming in thought, Bokuto rolls his eyes, laughs, and sets the magazine down.

“We had a chick cancel for later, _buuuut_ that reminds me!” He trots across the room towards Kuroo, fishes out a piece of paper from the desk and waves it in the air. Kuroo’s eyes suddenly bulge and he slaps his forehead.

“Right… Fuck, I forgot. You weren’t here the other day for it Tobio, but a twink came in asking to be an intern. Totally slipped my mind.” He explained, turning has back to Bokuto and I as he did so, and began to mess with the control board for the shop speakers. “Bokuto got rock hard as soon as he came in. It was hilarious!”

I pressed my hand against my mouth to suppress my laughter. Bokuto’s face and neck bloomed beet red and he started whining and complaining, soon after trying desperately to change the subject. He handed me the piece of paper which read ‘Keiji Akaashi’ in bold letters and the rest of his information spread front and back. As Kuroo started the music again at a lower volume, he explained that Keiji said he would be back tomorrow to meet me.

How exciting. I could barely contain my excitement to watch Bokuto get flustered again. However, on the drive back to Kaori’s school, Kuroo texted me and told me to come in a little earlier tomorrow to help clean up the shop before the intern was to arrive. For some reason, Kuroo never really liked to do something alone when it could be done by multiple people. He tattoos alone and lives alone, but when it comes to group activities, he’s addicted to the teamwork. I can’t argue with him. I agree and tell him I’ll see him bright and early.

Work slips my mind completely as I spot Kaori leaving her classroom. I always try to park as close to her classroom as I can, and the sight of her realizing it’s me she’s seeing then sprints to my car, makes me smile as wide as I can manage.

She pounces into the backseat and greets me excitedly, straps herself in and immediately tells me about her day. Just as we begin to leave the school premises, Kaori interrupts herself and wiggles restlessly, watching me through the rearview mirror.

“Can we go somewhere before we go home today, daddy?” She asks, clenching her fists in anticipation against her chest.

“Where are you thinking?”

“It’s a bakery! Takeda-san was talking about it today, and I really, really, really wanna go. Can we?!” Kaori emphasizes her ‘really’’s and I surrender immediately. She nearly screams in excitement before telling me the name, and explains that it has a cute name so that’s how she remembered it. She also had Ittetsu write the name down on a piece of paper for her, but I’ll take her word for it that she went by memory. I disregard her shoving something back into her pocket after talking to me.

The name rings a bell, though. I can’t recall going there myself but I know the general area, so it shouldn’t be hard to find. My memory leads me up a tight, winding hill about ten minutes from Kaori’s school. The sky turns bitter and spits down at us, clouds visibly beginning to crowd ominously together above. Kaori whimpers from behind me, watching out the window the leaves on trees thrashing amidst the heavy rainfall.

Once back on a normal road, I reach backward and open my hand. Kaori hunches forward and puts her hand in mine. I squeeze, tell her we’re almost there, and she perks up. I glance in the rearview mirror at her, and she exuberantly professes her love for me once again.

I recognize a small, blue building, dimly lit inside. I pull into the empty parking lot and jump in surprise at a bright crack of lightning jaggedly parting the sky in two. A low, primal growl of thunder soon follows and I rush to help Kaori out of the car and inside.

The cashier from inside watches as I hoist Kaori on to my hip and press her head under my chin to keep her from getting wet. He rushes to the front door and holds it open for us, ushering us inside.

“Goodness, goodness, quickly!” He exclaims, ogling at the threatening weather. He shuts the door and turns his attention back to us. I set Kaori down and she pats herself down, grimacing at her wet arms. “You two - you’re okay? The weather wasn’t like this earlier, right?”

“No, I don’t really know what happened. We were just on our way here and it suddenly started.” I explain, and follow Kaori as she leads me to a nearby table.

The place is very intimate. Well, sort of. It has more of a calming aura to it. The layout is simple and minimalistic, pretty much the opposite of my shop. The floor is a bleak brown hardwood and the walls are white, lined with a brown stripe at the foot that traces around the whole store. There’s many dimly lit lanterns and hanging lights enhancing the minimalism and intimacy. There’s cream coloured booths and maroon seats accompanying real wooden tables; they’re shiny, they look well-kept. I run my hand along the edge of one of the tables we pass. It’s smooth.

Most importantly, it smells like fucking heaven.

Amongst the array of displays, there appears to be many cakes, pastries, cookies, and well… I don’t really keep track of much else other than those. After Kaori sits down, the cashier joins us again and cups his hands against his abdomen.

“Can I get you two anything?” He smiles, shortly after waving at Kaori and asking how she is. She begs for a hot chocolate, and I ask for coffee. He nods and wanders back to the front counter. I didn’t notice when we first came in, but there’s a few expensive-looking machines behind the counter. From where I am, I spot a juicer, a coffee drip, and shelves upon shelves of spices and additives, of which I assume they mix with the sweets and drinks alike.

As for the boy, I couldn’t help but notice his grey hair. It’s like an old man’s, but he’s very clearly younger than his hair. I’d guess mid-twenties? It looked strange, but now that I watch him, I realize that it suits him.

Kaori wiggles beside me and groans.

“Daddy… can I wear your sweater? The rain got me wet. I hate it.” She whines, pouting up at me. I smile, sigh, and stand to pull my sweater up over my head. I pull my shirt back down that slid up with it and encase her in my sweater, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Kaori grins at me then suddenly stands and races over to the display cases.

I slowly follow and crouch down beside her to look at all of the desserts. She slams her hands against the glass with a huge smile on her face and points to every one she thinks looks good. From above us and behind the counter, the cashier calls for us and tells us our drinks are ready. I hoist Kaori upon my hip again and secure my sweater around her. I walk back to the counter and my mouth starts to water at the smell of fresh coffee. It wafts steam above, as does Kaori’s drink.

“We make everything fresh in house. Our owner and head baker concocted the hot chocolate mix himself - it’s super, super good. We even grind the coffee beans ourselves every morning!” He explains, also adding that it’s very hot and to wait until it cools. Kaori doesn’t like the sound of it, but waits anyway and instead just holds the cup in her hands and smells it.

I set her down and she carefully makes her way back to the table by herself, placing the cup on the table first and then climbing onto her chair. The cashier leans over and rests his chin in his palm.

“What’s her name?” He asks, watching her with a smile as she tries to sip her drink and flinches away, touching her lips.

“Kaori. She’s my only daughter.” I say, and glance down at my drink. I’ve never been bothered by heat, so I pick it up and take a small sip. He was right. It was really good. He coos and fawns over her, asks how old she is, and says he wishes he had a daughter of his own.

“How old are you?” I ask, curious.

“Ah, I’m only nineteen. Shouyou always tells me I look older than I actually am. It’s flattering, but it’s also like, hey, I don’t want to be old.” He chuckles to himself, then shakes his head and stands straight. I notice he has a birthmark or something on the corner of his left eye. Again, it suits him. I’m surprised by his age though, but I have to agree that he definitely does look older than he is.

“How impolite of me, I’m sorry! My name is Koushi Sugawara. I’ve worked here since high school.” He reaches out and takes my hand.

“Ah, nice to meet you. I’m Tobio Kageyama.”

As we shake hands, the sleeve of my shirt slips up and flashes my wrist full of tattoos. Koushi gasps and releases my hand and pushes up my sleeve a little more. He looks over them, fascinated, and explains that he’s always wanted a tattoo, but his parents wouldn’t be happy with him if he did.

I shrink my arm back and to avoid his gaze, I bury my nose in my coffee and take a drink.

Although, something that did catch my attention… who is Shouyou? I can’t help but ask.

“Shouyou’s the owner and head baker I mentioned earlier.” Koushi clarifies. He leans away from the counter and cleans up the minor mess behind him.  
“He’s very, very sweet and works very hard. I don’t think he’s ever had a day off in his life, to be honest. He loves his job, though. He tries to make everything himself but I always have to tell him there’s not enough time in a day for that.”

I hum in wonder to myself, glancing back and forth between the display case and Kaori. She’s talking to herself, making characters with her hands and taking sips of her drink. However, she notices me watching her and jumps out of her chair to come hook onto my leg. She exclaims that she wants a cookie. I shuffle down to her level and help her look for one she really likes.

Through the glass, Koushi’s body comes into view and he recommends a few, so of course Kaori says she wants all of them. I tell her no, but she pleads and I give in. Koushi picks out three different ones and delicately sets them down on a plate.

I take Kaori back to the table with plate in hand, and within the first few bites she squirms in place with a grin, repeating over that it’s “so, so, so yummy.”

In record time, all three are gone and she can’t get them off her mind. She snuggles into my sweater, wraps her hands around her cup of hot chocolate, and asks me if she can thank the baker.

“You want to thank him?” I repeat, a little surprised.

“Yes!” She declares. “I wish we could make cookies as good as those. I wanna say thank you! Please, daddy?”

From across the room, Koushi pokes his head above the display cases with a grin.

“You want to thank him, honey? I can bring him out if you want.”

Kaori expresses her excitement and nods quickly, her smile growing bigger as she watches Koushi begin to walk to the back. He suddenly stops and looks at me.

“Tobio - he’s, um…” He points to his ear. “... _y’know?_ So, um, if he doesn’t respond to you…” With his lips pursed, he drops his hand from his head and disappears into the back. I cock my brow and tilt my head, glancing down at Kaori who didn’t seem to listen whatsoever. What did he mean, I wonder? His head? Is he bald? But that wouldn’t explain… no. I cup my chin with my hand, wondering.

I’m too deep in my own thoughts to notice Koushi exit the kitchen first. Kaori catches my attention with her voice, and I turn my head towards the commotion.

Behind Koushi trails a smaller man with hair like fire. It sways with every step he takes, looking touchably soft. Who I can only assume is Shouyou, gazes around the room for a moment before noticing us.

We lock eyes and my breath hitches.

Koushi drifts back behind the counter as Shouyou comes closer and stands by the table with an enormous smile, his eyes glimmering in the dim light. He waves to Kaori then looks to me and holds out his hand.

“Nice to meet you! I am Shouyou Hinata.”

His voice sounds stuffy and he over-pronounces his words. Koushi’s advice suddenly replays in my head.

_He’s, um… y’know?_

I finally understand. He’s deaf.


	2. Intern

To be polite, I stand to shake Shouyou’s hand and bow my head. His hands are clean and dry, but his forearms and up are dusted with flour, even reaching his cheeks and the tip of his nose. I have to tilt my head to look down at him. He’s small - I would even say petite. He looks soft and delicate. His grip is firm and assuring though. I just hope he can’t feel my clamminess or hear my heart about to go into overdrive.

“Tobio. Tobio Kageyama.” I breathe, noticing Shouyou’s eyes flicker down to my lips then back up to my eyes.

He shows teeth as he smiles, bobbing our hands once before letting go and draping it back down at his side. Shouyou returns his attention to Kaori and claps his hands together, asking about the cookies. She bounces in her seat with a smile that matches Shouyou’s and spills the story of her teacher and our trip here. I don’t pay attention to the conversation. Instead I continue to stand by Shouyou and eye his mannerisms as he speaks. Despite managing a disability, he is extremely expressive and enthusiastic.

As he speaks, his hair bounces with every movement he makes. It’s adorable, quite frankly. It looks like bedhead. There’s no sign of a border from a hairnet denting his hairline, either. I can only imagine it’d become frizzy, poking through the hundreds of little holes.

Kaori brings me back into the conversation and Shouyou turns to me once again. His eyes are wide and bright, the shade of fresh bark. He watches me with a permanent blush on his cheeks.

“Daddy! I told Shouyou-san that you like sweets, too!” She declares, tipping her head back to take a drink. My eyes dart from Kaori back to Shouyou, and I rub the back of my head in embarrassment.

“A-Ah… well, not particularly…”

The ginger pouts, shoves his hands against his hips, and furrows his brows.

“You just haven’t had _my_ sweets yet!” He threatens playfully, but I know he means it. My throat suddenly goes dry. Shouyou takes a step closer to me, and a shiver soars up my spine and my toes clench in my shoes. “I will make you like them. I guarantee you will!”

As a finishing move, he pokes my chest and smirks. It’s almost like he’s challenging me. My skin’s set ablaze as his touch disappears and I fight the incessant urge to grab him and press him against my chest again.

My blood pounds in my ears.

My phone once again startles me out of a bad situation.

Bokuto asks me if I want to go out for a drink. I say, “um, it’s a fucking Monday,” he calls BS, and I end it with telling him I’ll see him tomorrow - _bright and early,_ his three least favourite words. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I watch Kaori tip her head all the way back to get the last drops of her hot chocolate. Shouyou’s talking about how he makes dough, using fruitful words like, _“gwaaah”_ and _“paaah,”_ making Kaori’s eyelids start to dip.

I take my cup of lukewarm coffee and drink what’s left, breaking away from the cup and feeling some of it dribble down my chin. I gaze down at the table as I take my sleeve and wipe my face clean, and try not to notice Hinata blatantly watching me. I glance up at him, he blushes, makes a face, loses his train of thought, and turns away.

“Well, we should be headi-” I start to say.

“A-Anyway, as I was… um, saying…” Shouyou talks over me, stumbling awkwardly over his words, trying to glance back at me to see if I was still looking at him. I keep forgetting he won’t know I’m talking if he’s not looking at me. Kaori starts to grow sleepier and sleepier but tries to still seem interested.

I stand there awkwardly. I nibble my lip, flexing my fingers. He can’t hear me… should I… poke him? I quickly disregard that option. It’d be rude.

Kaori finally yawns and Shouyou suddenly stops himself. He switches between looking at my daughter and I, cheeks ablaze in embarrassment. His hair puffs up like a scared cat’s tail.

“I-I-I am so sorry! I didn’t realize she was getting sleepy.” He presses his folded hands against his chest, tears starting to form in his eyes. Just noticing now, it takes Shouyou a little more effort to complete his sentences. It takes him longer, he draws out certain words, but I couldn’t care less. His voice is… nice. I just laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, she’s had a long day. We should get going now.” Shouyou watches my lips, takes a moment, then frowns and nods. He moves aside so I can pick up Kaori and tuck her against me, wrapping the ends of my sweater around her so she’s covered. I’m about to leave, then remember I hadn’t paid for anything. I balance Kaori with one arm and fish around my pockets for my wallet.

Shouyou takes a step towards me and tilts his head with a smile.

“If you are looking for your wallet, don’t worry. I think I can make an exception for you two.”

I pause and watch him for a few moments, just to make sure he’s serious. The continuous pounding of my heart, echoing in my ears is starting to piss me off. What’s so special about this guy? He’s just being nice. I don’t get it. My cheeks start to go pink, locking eyes with him. I rip them away, sigh, and turn away. I bid them goodnight, thank you, and Koushi calls to me that he hopes to see us again. I nod at him, open the door and glance back at Shouyou one last time.

He watches me blankly, no smile present. He plays with his fingers, and only as I start to walk outside does he perk back up and wave goodbye, his signature smile gracing his lips again. I nod a little deeper towards him, then let the door fall shut behind me.

  


* * *

  


The rainstorm from yesterday, overnight, turned into a below zero chill and froze my car overnight. I’m late getting to the shop because of it, even though I promised the guys I’d be early. Yet, the lights were still off inside as I arrived, and a man I hadn’t seen before was standing at the front window, his chin buried in his scarf and hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. I parked and fished out the shop key from my key ring.

“Yo.” Smoke escaped my lips as I spoke, startling him. He watched as I unlocked the door with uncertain eyes, but as I ushered him inside he seemed to realize who I was and held the door open for me to enter the shop behind him.

“Pardon my rudeness. Are you Tobio Kageyama?” He asked, taking his headphones out of his ears and letting them fall over his scarf. He stood in place as he watched me turn on the lights, take off my jacket and walk over to the reception desk.

“The one and only.” I sigh and glimpse down at the bold lettered resume of Keiji Akaashi. I take it, hold it in the air, and cock my head at him. “This is you?”

Keiji nods and follows my lead as I walk over and sit in one of the waiting room chairs. He takes a seat, lifts his scarf over his head, drapes his jacket over his chair and tucks his headphones into his jeans pocket. I read over his previous jobs, school history, and accomplishments. I’m surprised to find there’s no previous shop experience.

“If I may clarify,” Keiji starts, “I’m majoring in art. For University. Tattooing is one of the finest forms of art, in my opinion. I want to learn more about it.”

I look up at him and set the resume down on the table, still messy with magazines from yesterday. I cross my legs and fold my arms, making sure to flaunt my twin sleeves disappearing up into the fabric of my t-shirt. Keiji’s eyes trail to my left arm, then my right.

“Those are quite impressive. You’re also pretty muscular. How do you work out?” He looks back up to me, suddenly catching me off guard. I feel heat raise from my neck, up past my chin and up into my cheeks.

“I-I don’t work out, per se. I play volleyball. Well, used to, I guess. I used to play competitive matches, but I have a daughter now and I pretty much only have time to practice. But, then again, I _do_ have to exercise for it so… ugh - whatever. It’s not what we’re talking about right now.” I try my best to compose myself again, switching my crossed legs and clearing my throat. “You’ve never been in an actual tattoo shop before?”

Keiji’s eyes flutter closed and he shakes his head.

“The other day, looking for you, was my first time. However, don’t go easy on me or hide things from me just because I’m not experienced in this field. I’m here to learn. I want to see how everyone works and use these practices to my advantage for school.”

Momentarily, I’m taken aback by his upfront attitude. He’s an extremely serious guy, looking for experience. But if he isn’t a spitting image of me five years ago, I don’t know what is. My blush fades completely and a wide smirk curls my lips. I stand and hold my hand out.

“You think you can handle this shop? I’ll take you up on that.”

Keiji watches me for a second before standing and slapping his hand into mine. He squeezes hard and mimics my grin.

“It’s a deal, then.”

As if on cue, Bokuto and Kuroo burst through the door, cackling like hyenas. Kuroo holds on to the back of Bokuto’s jacket with his eyes shut tight, laughing so hard he’s starting to wheeze. Bokuto digs his fingers into his stomach, hunched over, snorting.

I drop Keiji’s hand and cross my arms, watching the two slowly stop laughing, Bokuto wiping his eyes free of tears.

“Hey, boss!” Bokuto yells excitedly, stifling his giggles. He clears his throat, glances over to Kuroo who proceeds in front of him to the front desk, and back to Keiji and I. His eyes linger on Keiji. It’s obvious.

“Y-You’re… um…” Bokuto’s cheeks fade to red.  

“Keiji Akaashi. I’m interning now, ah, Mr…?”

“K-K-Koutarou Bokuto! Call me Bokuto!” He jumps upright, his entire body going stiff. I almost want to distract Keiji from looking at Bokuto’s shameless display but it’s just so fucking amusing that I can’t. From the corner of my eye, I watch Keiji nod. He repeats himself, adding Bokuto’s name.

Bokuto quickly bows his head, drops his gaze and promptly disappears into the back room. There’s a moment of silence before Keiji speaks up.

“Is he… normally like that?” He asks, turning to me. Seriously though, all I can do is laugh. Bokuto is such a loser when it comes to people he’s attracted to. It’s so blatant. I’m actually more surprised at the fact that Keiji hasn’t already started to suspect it. He brags about hookups sometimes, and dates once a week, but in reality all Bokuto is is a dumb little teddy bear.

“He does that around people he likes. Feel honoured.” Kuroo chimes in, flashing Keiji and I his signature smile just as he turns the knob to the stereo. Today’s a classic rock day? What a treat.

Keiji seems unfazed by everything. The loud music, the people, everything. He’s a serious kid. I know he wants the experience, and I know that’s all he’s here for. I know he’s not here to make friends. He picks up his coat and slings his scarf back around his neck. Keiji tells me he has chores to do today for his mother, so I tell him I’ll see him in the morning, but about an hour later than when we met today. He gives me a slight nod and secures himself in his jacket, puts his headphones back in his ears, and walks out.

Wakatoshi walks in momentarily after, not stopping in the waiting room to converse. He glances towards me and motions behind him.

“Intern?” He asks while making his way down the hallway into his office. I don’t answer because I know he won’t care either way, and hear his door close behind him shortly after. I watch Kuroo physically grind his teeth, his jaw clenched. He starts to tap his fingers against the desk.

“Kuroo…” I start to say. But I don’t even know what I would’ve said. I’m not good with expressing my feelings.

“Shut up,” he snaps, “I don’t wanna hear anything - nothing. Let’s clean up this fucking place.”

Wakatoshi Ushijima completes the quadfecta of the shop. I hired him as soon as I rented out the building, even before Kuroo and Bokuto. He came in, slapped his resume down, told me to hire him, and walked out. He is the epitome of the phrase, “I have more seniority,” and it pisses Kuroo off to no end. Kuroo harasses me constantly about him, telling me he’ll complain to HR if he doesn’t leave. I always tell him we have no HR, it’s just us, and he just scoffs and goes back to whatever he’s doing.

I think Kuroo hates Wakatoshi because of an incident about a year or so ago.

Kuroo was in the middle of a huge thigh tattoo, and the guy started bleeding really bad. He rushed around the building trying to find a fresh sanitary cloth just as Wakatoshi just came back from his break and watched him scuttle around desperately. Kuroo told me he asked for help and said Wakatoshi told him he had no reason to help him, and went back to his office. Kuroo screamed, telling him his customer was bleeding and needed a cloth, but he refused to help. Kuroo tried to steal one of Wakatoshi’s. Wakatoshi, apparently, stood and towered over Kuroo, telling him to get the fuck out of his office, that it wasn’t his problem.

I didn’t have any proof, so I legally couldn’t take any action. We got cameras a few weeks afterwards, just in case. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to take Kuroo’s word for it, neither Bokuto or I were present in the shop that day. It was just those two. For days, I kept checking our website for reviews concerning the incident, but alas, nothing.

Bokuto pretends to be friends with Wakatoshi to keep the tension down, but Kuroo hates it. It probably amps it up more, to be honest.

Kuroo starts helping me clean the shop and Bokuto comes out of hiding, flicking his tongue piercing against the back of his teeth. He stands nervously behind the reception desk for a minute, watching us sweep and organize. I glance up as he opens his mouth to say something, then promptly closes it.

I feel bad. I wish I could say something, but moreover, do something. I wish I had proof. I wish I was better at expressing myself.

  


* * *

  


Kaori and I head straight home instead of visiting the bakery again. I shower and change into my sweatpants, giving her time to watch cartoons for a bit before I help her with her homework. Writing is giving her a hard time. They’re practicing small sentences with basic words, but Kaori slumps in her chair with her palms against her forehead, in a constant state of stress because of it. She sighs at everything I say, but I try to make it as simple as I can for her to understand. I notice that next to prompts for sentences, Ittetsu encourages her and draws little smiley faces. With some struggling, we wrap it up and make dinner together.

Kaori continues to sulk, holding on to my pant leg as I stir the vegetables around, making sure they don’t burn. I lift her up onto my hip and ask her to check if the rice is ready. I lean over and she lifts the lid to the pot and a huge cloud of steam escapes, making both of our faces warm. We agree everything’s ready, eat dinner on the couch together and fall asleep together, dirty pots and pans still scattered about the kitchen.

In the middle of the night, I wake up to the sound of Kaori breathing heavily upon my chest. I watch her for a moment, groggy, and rub her back slowly. She’s sweat right through her shirt. I notice her bangs sticking to her forehead. I carefully start to get up and pick her up under her arms. I walk her to her room, wet a cloth with cool water, wring it so it’s not sopping, and push her bangs up to drape it over her forehead. I sigh. I pull the blankets up to her stomach, grimacing at her laboured breaths.

I leave her door open a crack and head to my room. Getting into bed, I send Kuroo a text that I won’t be able to make it tomorrow because Kaori’s sick. Hopefully I don’t wake him up with it and he doesn’t snap at me for texting him at 3 in the morning, but I end up drifting off without seeing my room light up. It’s only when I wake up in the morning that I see he’s answered.

“ _Ya ok,_ ” the text reads, “ _but in that case I’m telling wakapussy to stay home under ur orders._ ”

I don’t think I’ve ever rolled my eyes so far into the back of my head. Just another child to take care of.


	3. Am I Scared?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can I move on from my past and relearn what it’s like to find love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, there is scene where Tobio experiences a panic attack. Please proceed with caution.

I ended up staying home for the next three days to take care of Kaori. She had a mild cold, but sweat through all of her clothes during the night and only had an appetite for vegetable soup. It was kind of lonely making dinner by myself without her asking questions and clinging to my leg, even though she was just a few steps away in the living room. All of the energy was sucked out of her. She tried to seem like herself for my sake, but would quickly turn back into an empty shell. However, she was always upset that she couldn’t cuddle up to me, and that she couldn’t play outside. Although, it upset her  _ most  _ when I had to bring her along in the car with me to pick up her missed homework assignments. 

By the time Kaori feels better, only suffering by a runny nose now, it’s Saturday and she’s caught up on all of her homework. I’m able to sleep in a little, but not by much. I hear my door creak open, the soft pitter-patter of her feet on the carpet, feel my mattress shift, and feel her cuddle up against my back. I turn over and tuck her head under my chin, running my fingers through her hair. 

She hasn’t profusely sweat since yesterday morning. She’s pretty happy that she can finally wear her favourite Gudetama sweater again. A small sigh escapes her and she presses closer to me. 

I blindly reach for my phone behind me, stretching at an awkward angle until I feel the volleyball keychain I’ve had attached to it since graduation and grab it. Since I haven’t been able to come into work the past few days, I’ve had both Kuroo and Bokuto keep me updated on how business was going. The intern is handling the job smoothly so far. No complaints as usual, except from Kuroo. Wakatoshi’s presence is enough to set him off into a fit of rage, even though he works two jobs and is only there three days a week. I still sympathize with Kuroo, despite the commotion it causes. 

I have an incessant itch to get back to work and start helping out again. I don’t usually stay still for long - I’m not used to it. My parents put me to work when I was fifteen and it’s been like that ever since. My first job was at a corner store, about a block away from my high school. The owner was nice enough to let me practice serves and tosses in the back lot until I had to run home before curfew. I got a lot of practice in back then. I was so good, I know I was. Yeah, sure, I was incredibly cocky, but that’s the price you pay for being so skilled in something, right? I played in practice matches with competitive schools, I played in official games… I won. I won a lot. I loved the feeling of sweat dripping off my face as if I were crying from victory. 

Volleyball was my life. It helped me through the abuse my parents put me through. “Abuse” I say, although, I have to laugh. My parents were so in over their heads they never would’ve realized, even if a deity themself told them, that what they put me through was torture. The control, the verbal lashings - fuck, even the dumb dress shirts. All I ever wanted in that household was to be normal, in my own way. I wanted to live off volleyball… I wanted a boyfriend… I wanted, I guess, a life that I could be proud of. 

I picked up drawing as a pastime for when I was grounded and could barely breathe without permission. I drew landscapes, figures, animals - anything. Bokuto would always cheer me on, too. He knew how my parents were and would throw rocks at my window to get my attention. He’d throw up snacks, sticky notes attached with dumb smiley faces on them. I don’t think I ever threw out any of them though. 

I guess I’ve never really expressed to him how much that got me through my suicidal phases. 

Through drawing, I met Kuroo too, and everything else has gone down in history. I’m caked in tattoos, drink and smoke socially, and, well, I’m still gay. My life itself is, I bet, something my parents pray against every day. I haven’t talked to them in years, not since I moved out. I sometimes wonder if they think about me, wonder what they’re doing now, but then I remember their faces. The faces that proudly put me through so much pain and suffering. The faces that pressured me to conform.

I lock my phone. 

Kaori rolls away from me a little and pokes my shoulder. 

“That one’s my favourite, daddy.” She says softly, wiping her bangs out of her eyes with her other hand. I glance down at where she holds her finger. It’s a small black and white robin with a daisy in its beak, blended amidst my other larger tattoos. 

“Do you remember why I got it?” I ask, setting my phone down and taking her hand in mine, kissing her knuckles. 

“Yeah,” she giggles, “because that’s my stuffed birdie you got me! And… the flower… ‘cause that’s my favourite one.” 

Kaori jabs her way down my arm, picking out the ones she likes. It reminds me of the sight of her face, completely lit up, marvelling at the sweets at the bakery we visited. My right sleeve has pops of colour here and there, but has mostly black and white. It actually has, I think, two of my old drawings that I grew fond of. One of them is a prosthetic mask with a hand gracing its fingertips across the chin and cheek, the other, a volleyball eclipsing over the moon. My left sleeve is a collage of more nature-like things. I have the roman numerals of Kaori’s birthday on that sleeve, too. 

I think about the bakery. I think about Shouyou. I try to resist, like I have been doing since I met him, but I fail. 

I think about his soft voice, his face, his hair. His  _ hair  _ \- how it was the colour of fire. Isn’t that ironic? A ray of sunshine, like himself, with hair of  _ fire. _

His hands… gentle yet so eager to be pressed against his mouth in realization, or peacefully glued together, or… laid against my chest. I shudder and my heart starts to race at the thought. Shouyou’s small body holds so much passion inside. His disability doesn’t faze him. It’s like he doesn’t even realize he has one. 

I want to hold his hand again. I want to feel his touch again. I want to hear his stuffy, stupid voice, watch his stupid, fluffy hair bounce with each step he takes, marvel at his stupid, beautiful smile. I just don’t understand. He’s nothing special. Shouyou’s a normal guy, working his ass off to get through life. I guess, though… he could assume that about me, too. Assume that I’m just a normal guy with a normal life. Assume I have no emotional trauma, anxiety, depressive episodes, suicidal tendencies… nothing. He knows nothing. 

What am I even thinking? I’ve met him once. He’s never going to get to know me. 

He can’t know anything about me. 

He’s going to hate me. 

But I can’t shake my fucking mind off him. 

His face, his voice, his body, I can’t fucking stop thinking of him. 

It’s… It’s Saturday, isn’t it? It’s open. I know it is. Koushi told me that Shouyou is there every day. I can see him.  _ I can see him.  _

Kaori’s still going on about my tattoos, poking the ones that trail into my chest. I take her hand and she tries to smack me away. 

“Hey,” I start, “do you want to go to the bakery today?” She takes a moment to realize, then instantly lights up and starts cheering and jumping on her knees. I smile as she flails around happily, then slowly get out of bed and stretch my arms above my head. Is this selfish of me? Is this bad? To use my daughter as an excuse to see someone I’m attracted to? As horrible as it is, I can’t find it in me to care. Kaori wants to go, as do I. It’s not like I’m doing something harmful, I just… I can’t shake my mind off Shouyou. I need to see him again.   
  
  


 

* * *

 

 

 

This time, there’s no sudden storm on the way there. The day’s bright, Kaori’s favourite birds fluttering away from the sides of the roads as we pass. She cheers and cheers, but I can’t seem to get my heart to stop racing. My hands tremble, gripping the steering wheel with all my might so it won’t be as noticeable. I can’t control my excessive sweating or erratic breaths - it feels like a panic attack. I… I can’t wait to see him. I’m selfish, I know it, and I don’t care. This dumbass has the  _ audacity  _ to make me feel like this, then expects me to do nothing about it? I just might have to come to terms with the fact that I’m… I’m actually… you know what, no. Nope. Nope, not saying it. I can’t make me. Fuck you, me. 

I swoop into the parking spot I took last time, right up front, and Kaori unbuckles herself. There’s not a terrible amount of cars in the lot, and from what I see through the windows, there’s just a handful of people inside, as well. My pulse throbs in my ears. Deep breaths aren’t helping. 

Kaori and I meet in front of the car and I hold her hand. She jumps up and down, talking about what she wants, but I can barely hear her over the sound of my deafening heartbeat. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s such an odd sensation - being nervous. Well… am I nervous? Yeah, fuck, I guess I am. I’m trying to trick myself into thinking that I’m just excited to have another fresh cup of coffee again. I’m trying to think that I’m anxious to see Koushi again, because he might try to look at my other wrist full of tattoos. It’s not working. I’m still thinking of Shouyou. It’s pissing me off. 

The bell  _ tings  _ above our heads as we open the door. 

The entrancing sound of warm conversation and jazz very slightly calms me down. It’s cozy, just as it was last time, and smells like fresh dough and coffee beans. Kaori rips away from me to sprint up to the glass display case. I quickly follow after her. She still doesn’t know how to control her excitement, especially in public, though, I can see why she would be. There’s a new showcase today. Various berry tarts, cookies, muffins, loaves of banana bread and cinnamon buns stuff the display full. 

Curling and unravelling my fingers, I can’t shake the heavy weight pressing down on my chest. I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. I take a long, shaky breath, and glance around for a nearby table, close enough that I could still keep an eye on Kaori without her being too far. My eyelids dip slightly and I catch my racing breath, only momentarily. I’m starting to feel desperate at this point. I can’t even think properly. I’m sweating excessively, I know I am, I can feel the armpits of my shirt sticking to me. I’m getting lightheaded. Kaori asks what I want and looks up at me. My heart just races, I can’t even answer. 

She frowns and takes my hand.

I can’t believe this is happening, in public no less. I’m probably getting stared at, too. Everyone’s likely saying, “what is that guy’s problem?” and giving me weird looks. I can almost hear the conniving snickers behind my back. 

“Daddy, you’re really white.” Kaori tells me. She drags me by the hand to the table I was looking at and makes me sit. 

“It’s okay, honey. I’m okay.” I stutter, dragging the heavy words out from my lips. I turn in to the table and hunch over, keeping my head up with my palms against my forehead. My leg rapidly bounces as I continue to take long, slow breaths. The music is drowned out. The conversation is drowned out. This is because of… of him. I haven’t felt like this in so long. Am I having this attack right now, not only because I’m nervous, but because I’m scared?

Am I scared? 

I ask myself… Am I scared? 

Kaori takes the seat opposite of me and starts talking to herself, making little figures with her fingers, and disappears into her own world. I try to focus on her voice. I listen carefully to her words, trying to disregard my pulse pounding in my ears. The tone of her voice is charismatic as she speaks, and I notice she puts unnecessary lilt into her characters’ words. I want to reach out and hold her hand. I imagine telling her I’m sorry and breaking down, but I haven’t cried since I was a child. I can’t let Kaori see the weak side of me. She can’t know. Right now, she probably just thinks I’m sick, like my stomach hurts or something. It’d be impossible for her to understand. I want to apologize, but she wouldn’t know why in the first place. I can’t let her keep watching me break down and be so weak. I need to get up and be fine. Please, I beg myself, just stand up and act like nothing happened. 

“Daddy… Daddy!” Kaori’s voice drags me out of my thoughts and I sit upright, dropping my arms onto the table. 

A woman stands next to me with a glass of ice water in her hand. She carefully sets it down on the table in front of me and offers me a small, sympathetic smile. I can barely find it in myself to look her in the eye. By the looks of it though, she works here. She has on a white apron tied loosely around her waist, a lacy yellow and white striped top underneath and acid washed jeans, rolled up to her ankles. She looks like an honour roll high school student. 

“My apologies if I was interrupting anything, sir… um… Koushi asked me to bring you a glass of water. Oh! Um, sorry, I should have just said… u-um, Koushi is my coworker. He… saw that you were looking… unwell.” As she mentions him, she steps to the side and motions behind her. Koushi pokes his head up from the display case and waves, a half-smile half-frown twisting his lips, his eyebrows coming together. 

They both stop their interactions for a moment to bid a customer good day, and wave as they leave. 

The woman returns her attention to me and clears her throat, a light blush on her cheeks. 

“I have a feeling you guys are friends already, though.” She giggles, smiling reassuringly down at me. “My name is Hitoka. If you need either of us, we’re here, alright?” Hitoka glances between Kaori and I, bows, then prances back to the front counter.

As they both go back to their work, I slowly lower my gaze to the glass of water she set down in front of me. A drop of sweat slides down the side of the glass, parting its way through the condensation. Kaori goes back to playing with her hands, making the characters walk on the tips of her pointer and middle fingers. I take a slow, deep breath and down half the glass of water in one drink. I sigh as I set it down. I can finally hear the warm conversation and soft jazz again.

The comedown makes me exhausted. I take more slow breaths and begin integrating conversation and questions in with Kaori’s storyline. I push the glass of water aside and use my own fingers to join hers. 

She can’t know I’m weak. She can’t ever know. 

After only a few minutes of us playing together, Kaori gets bored and begs for a drink. I smile, nod, then as we both get up, I hoist her up onto my hip and walk to the front counter. 

“Koushi-san!” Kaori exclaims and throws her hands in the air, startling Koushi from behind the counter. He whips around, shock evident on his face, but he quickly recognizes us and offers a gracious smile. 

“Why, hello, you two. Would the princess like to have something today?” 

“Hot chocolate, please!” 

Koushi nods and looks up at me, and smiles a little softer. 

“Coffee, please, Koushi.” 

He gives another nod, tells us to have a seat and he’ll bring it out in a few minutes. Koushi starts to turn away, but I reel him back in and sigh, embarrassed. I can’t seem to look him in the eyes as I speak. I ask if Shouyou’s working today. I can tell by this point that the colour’s returned to my face, as I feel a familiar heat settling in the apples of my cheeks. Koushi doesn’t hesitate to tell me that he’s in today, working very hard as usual. However, he warns me that Shouyou may not be able to visit us today because he has to prep everything for the weekend. 

I feel my body drop a little. My arms that hold Kaori against me weaken. Instead of it racing, I feel my heart almost come to a standstill. 

Koushi quickly notices my change in attitude and shakes his head quickly.

“Come back at closing if you’d like to see him, Tobio. He would be just as happy to see you. Unfortunately, my shift ends soon so I won’t have the pleasure of reuniting you two. Hitoka will be here, though. I’ll tell her everything. Don’t worry, alright?” He explains, taps the counter and turns away to make our drinks. 

In reality, I should have expected this to happen. I’m coming into Shouyou’s workplace where  _ he’s  _ the owner  _ and  _ the head baker, on a weekend no less. I must’ve had it in my head that because my shop is closed on weekends, his work must be… slow? I don’t even know what I was thinking. All I had on my mind was him, I rushed into it, and look what I’ve done. I made an absolute fool out of myself, and I did it because I didn’t put any thought into it. I should’ve called. I would’ve avoided a panic attack; I would’ve avoided this whole disaster. 

I know I’ve become a weak person. I was beaten down as a child and lost my first love at eighteen. It must have taken an even larger toll on me than I realized, because feeling this way about someone you only just met and have seen  _ once _ … that’s not… that’s not… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. Am I scared to fall in love again? Is this even love that I feel, stabbing my heart? Am I scared to face the reality of my situation - of my mental illness? 

Can I move on from my past and relearn what it’s like to find love? 

I ask myself that as I find myself returning to the bakery as the sun’s fallen behind the mountains and the moon is beginning to rise. 

I called Bokuto on our balcony with a cigarette between my lips, asking if he and Kuroo could watch Kaori for a few hours. They love her, even call themselves her uncles, and accepted without question. Well, I guess not completely. Bokuto pulled me aside as I was leaving, Kuroo tossing Kaori in the air above his head, catching her and capturing her in a hug. I had to convince him I wasn’t having an episode. I couldn’t fully explain it, because I still didn’t know what the hell I was doing completely, but all I could tell him was that I was meeting someone. His face immediately lit up and he slapped my shoulder, wishing me luck and congratulations

It’s not something to necessarily congratulate me on, though… I’m trying to figure out what I’m feeling - what I can  _ do  _ about what I’m feeling. 

Hitoka spots me a few moments after I reach the door and try tugging it open. The ‘open’ sign is turned off, but the lights were still on and there were still a handful of customers inside, finishing up. She scuttles over to the door, her face red, and holds it open for me. 

“S-Sorry! Hinata-san tells me not to lock the door when customers are still inside when we’re closed, but it’s a force of habit…” Hitoka stumbles over her words, but with a single wave of my hand, she sighs in relief, bows at me, and returns to her work. I shrug my leather jacket a little closer against me, finding a clean table to sit at. I don’t know if it’s the temperature inside, but I’m getting a constant chill up my spine. I’m not shaking though, which is a definite upgrade from earlier. I’m so stupid. 

As I wait for the bakery to officially close and wait for the other customers to leave, I play a colouring game on my phone. I tap whatever colours are available on the sidebar, and tap the sections of the drawing to colour them in. It’s a game that calms me down in any situation, especially choosing the nature-themed drawings. I have a habit of immersing myself in any project I’m working on, so I don’t even notice Hitoka approach me until she obviously clears her throat. I don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting. There’s no one else left inside. 

I fumble with my phone and she giggles in the midst of untying her apron. She lifts it over her head and smoothes down her blond hair, tucking one side of it behind her ear. I stuff my phone in my pocket. 

“You’re here for Hinata-san, right, um, Tobio?” Hitoka asks sweetly, tilting her head to the side slightly. Her hair falls over her ear again as she does so. 

“Yeah.” I agree, flicking my eyes down to the floor then back up to her. “I… I didn’t mean to make you worry earlier. I just… It just happens sometimes.” 

“No, no!” She shakes her head and clutches her apron tightly. “No need to apologize. I get like that sometimes, too. I was a mess on my first day here, gee… But thankfully, I have friends here that help me out when I start to feel like that! I know I can rely on them when I need them… Ah! What am I saying? I’m sorry, I tend to ramble a lot…” Hitoka giggles again awkwardly, bowing her head in apology. For some reason, I agree with her. I don’t know her situation at all, but I know I have friends to rely on. It just feels like such a hassle to burden them with my problems. 

“Shall I get Hinata-san for you? He should be finished prepping by now.” 

I nod a few times. I watch her as she smiles and nods in return, then disappears into the kitchen doorway. Faintly, I hear soft conversation. I hear Shouyou’s stuffy voice, his laugh, some clattering, then silence. 

Hitoka leaves the kitchen first, sucking in her bottom lip to abstain from smiling. She doesn’t make any eye contact with me as she walks back behind the counter, the apron gone, her hands cupped against her chest. I watch her with interest, noticing her incredibly suspicious movements. She crouches down for a few seconds, pops back up, pretends to move something or rearrange something, then repeats. She’s acting incredibly fishy. She glances at the kitchen door every few moments, as well. 

That’s when, out of the corner of my eye, I see fiery hair and big, bright eyes peering at me sideways from the side of the kitchen doorway. 

Shouyou and Hitoka burst out in consecutive laughter, Shouyou stumbling out from the kitchen, holding his stomach. 

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I feel my breath catch in my throat. I suddenly stand up from the table and meet him, standing stiffly in front of him. Shouyou wipes his eye free of a tear, his shoulders bouncing occasionally, suppressing more laughter. He stands up straight after a few moments and tilts his head back slightly to look up at me. 

He shows teeth with a smile that melts my shaken nerves away. 

His cheeks are dusted light pink. His hair bounces on top of his head. 

“Thanks for coming to see me, Tobio!” Shouyou exclaims. I physically prevent myself from lunging towards him and pulling him into a tight hug. Good thing I have my hands in my jacket pockets, I wouldn’t want him to see my fingernails dig deep into my palms. 

I chastely nod, forgetting to smile. His… just…  _ everything  _ makes me forget to be normal. I can’t take my eyes off him.

“Weirdo,” Shouyou teases after a few moments of no response, “you can smile around me, you know?” He passes by me and beckons me over to the table I was sitting at before. Just as he’s about to sit, he stops and remembers something, tells me to sit and wait, and walks behind the front counter. I take my seat as I’m instructed and take these few moments to tell myself: act rationally. 

I’m blowing my reactions out of proportion. I need to chill out and think normally, act like nothing’s a big deal. I’m just meeting someone for a friendly talk. That’s it. That’s all this is. 

Shouyou’s back sooner than I thought he’d be with two cups of coffee in his hands, steam wafting back as he walks towards me. He sets down a cup for me and takes a seat, cupping his own drink with both hands as if to warm them up. I glance down at his cup, then mine. Shouyou scratches his cheek and giggles, telling me that Koushi thinks Shouyou and I are weird for both liking black coffee. 

“It’s… It’s delicious.” I mumble, wrapping my hand around my cup, nearly flinching at the warmth. Shouyou’s eyes linger on my mouth before flicking down to my cup, then back to his, his permanent blush growing slightly deeper. “I like your recipe.” 

“So… is there a reason you came to see me?” He asks, and once again, it slips my mind that he can’t hear me. 

I lift my gaze up to his and run my fingers up and down the handle of the cup. 

“Well, we came in earlier because… Kaori’s been sick for the past few days. I wanted to cheer her up with something I know that makes her happy.” I lie. Not a complete lie, but I leave out my anxiety attack and the true, selfish reason to why I came to see him. 

“Kaori’s sick? Is she okay?” Shouyou presses a little further, his eyebrows furrowing together with concern. 

“Ah, yeah. She’s gotten over it now, I think. She doesn’t sweat through her clothes anymore.” I glance down at my cup and lift it to take a small sip. It’s cooled down a little, but not by much. Shouyou visibly relaxes, and sighs with relief. He follows and takes a sip of his coffee, too. 

“So she’s… here with you now, then?” 

I feel my heart skip a beat. My body suddenly starts pulsing. I tip my eyes down to my cup and hold on to the handle for dear life. 

“No.” 

“Then, why-” 

“You.” 

I hold my head up and stare deep into the eyes that encaptured me the moment I first saw them. 

“I came here, by myself, because I just wanted to see  _ you. _ ” 


	4. You Don't Laugh Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected turn of events deters Tobio in his pursuit of love.

Shouyou remains in wordless shock for, what seems like, an eternity. He doesn’t move. As he breathes through his parted lips, jaw slacked, his eyes never waver from mine. Although I was extremely panicked before, just because, y’know, it’s  _ him _ , I thought it was fairly obvious why I felt that way. I mean, Koushi has only met me twice and he understood my intentions right away. So why is this dummy giving me a look like he absolutely can’t believe it?

“Um… Is everything alright?” I ask. My words shatter the silence like throwing a rock into a glass window. Shouyou suddenly comes back alive and drops his gaze, trailing his finger all around his coffee mug. 

“I’m sorry. I just don’t understand.” He sulks, slumping against his seat. I watch him and start to nibble on the inside of my cheek. By that, does he mean he couldn’t tell what I said or he doesn’t know why I would say something like that? Was I really  _ that  _ unclear? 

I swallow my pride and throw away all of my previous anxiety. I feel like a completely different person - a  _ confident  _ person, as I reach across the table and gently grab his wrist. I don’t know where my sudden brashness comes from. My typical anxiety induced stoic demeanour is completely transformed into an attitude that I associate with, say, trying to make Kaori feel better. Shouyou lifts his head back up, purses his lips, looks around frantically, then slowly gives in and shyly looks at me.

“I said what I meant.” I boldly affirm. Man, who even  _ was  _ I earlier today? “I don’t get it, but I feel… weird when I think about you. So I wanted to see you and tell you my feelings.”

Shouyou glances down to my lips, then back up. He stares so dangerously deep into my eyes, it’s like he’s physically trying to find any trace of a lie. But I’m not lying. I try to make that fact very clear, tightening my hold on his wrist slightly. Shouyou suddenly flinches away and sinks back, dragging his arm away from me. He peers to the side, nibbling on his lower lip. Slowly, still watching him, I lean back as well and take another sip of my coffee. 

“S-So, Tobio… you… I don’t understand. You feel weird? Because of me?” He peeks back up at me, stabbing a finger into his chest. I nod. He lowers his gaze again and takes a fistful of his shirt in his hand. He looks like he’s in pain. I didn’t say anything bad, though, did I? I was just trying to get my feelings out of the way so he could understand… and possibly reciprocate. 

With him being on my mind constantly, I couldn’t keep having my troublesome feelings floating around in my thoughts. I tried to tell myself to stop being so selfish, but when it comes to Shouyou, I honestly can’t help it. I really don’t know why I’ve taken such a liking to him - to  _ everything  _ about him.

“You must not get it…” He mumbles under his breath so softly I almost don’t hear him. I lean forward on my elbows and tilt my head to the side, watching him internally struggle with himself. 

“Tobio, I am not normal.” He says. 

My eyes grow and my breath catches in my throat. He’s talking about his deafness… but…

“I don’t care about that, idiot!” I slam a half-clenched fist upon the table, making Shouyou flinch as he looks back up at me. He watches my lips as I speak, clenches his teeth and tightens his grip on his shirt. “I don’t care… Your disability doesn’t change the way I feel, so..!” Shouyou dips his head down half-way through my sentence. I lunge forward a little, in hopes of him magically seeing my lips and knowing what I’m saying, but I know it doesn’t work. My heart is starting to race again. I’m feeling frantic. Does he really have such strong negative feelings for me that he can’t even look at me anymore? Is it my tattoos? My hair? My clothes? 

I haven’t experienced this feeling in a long time. 

Before that blonde boy and I began hanging out together, he refused my feelings and mocked me at every opportunity he had. He said I was strange for liking the things he did to me. I think it was his own way of protecting himself though, because he did eventually warm up to me. That’s when we started having sex. He was cruel to me and put me down whenever the opportunity arose, but we were just kids. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. I mean, I fell in love with him. I had to have liked him for some reason. 

For some reason, however, I don’t think I would want to experience those feelings again with Shouyou. I don’t know if it’s because I’m… scared… of feeling that way again, or what. I cringe at the thought of Shouyou putting me down and leaving my life because of something so trivial. This… this isn’t going how I wanted it to. 

“Tobio, I believe that you should rethink your feelings.” 

Fuck - don’t let it end this way. 

“Because… there is nothing good about me.” 

Shouyou, if I could just show you how good life could be… 

“I am a completely different person from you. I am going to weigh you down.”

Is there anything I can even say to change your mind? 

“Please… you are too much of a good person. I don’t know you well, but I do know that much. Don’t let me ruin that for you.” Shouyou’s stuffy voice hitches, tears streaming down the sides of his face. I try to reach out to grab him, but he’s too far away. I try to speak, but all that comes out is air. He stands up from the table and sobs into his hands as he stumbles back into the kitchen. 

Hitoka whips her head back and forth between us, her mouth agape in shock, and quickly follows after Shouyou. 

I guess I can’t do anything, after all. I’ll never be good enough for anyone. All I am is weak, and that’s all I’ll ever be. Weak.

 

 

* * *

 

  
  
I spend the next week with Keiji, teaching him what he hasn’t yet learned from Kuroo and Bokuto. He’s only been in the shop for a handful of days, so I encourage him often to ask questions and he and I go back and forth until he’s got mostly everything memorized. Together, one-on-one, he watches me perform two small tattoos and two medium-sized ones, learns more in-depth about the equipment we use, and safety precautions. I learn that he’s in his second year of University, drawing on the side, as I did when I was younger, trying to make some extra money for tuition. I tell him about Kaori, my history with all three dimwits I work with, and about most of my tattoos. 

Still, I know he’s not here to make friends. He has no spark in his eyes or welcoming air to him, really. He writes down important information, helps with basic shop duties, then goes home. 

Bokuto still has the hots for him though. It’s pretty funny. 

Once Friday evening rolls around, Keiji is the first to leave, and Kuroo teases Bokuto until we close up and leave for the weekend. On Saturday night, I find myself laying in bed with Kaori, reading her a book that she took home from the school library. She rests her head in the crook of my underarm, her little hand toying with the drawstrings of my sweater, keeping attention as I read aloud. That’s when I receive a call from the nefarious Bokuto. 

I sit upright, setting the open book upside down on the bed and grab my phone from my bedside.

“ _ TOBIO!  _ Hey, hey,  _ hey! _ ” I flinch away from the obnoxiously loud exclamation through the phone. I cringe. I can tell he’s been drinking. 

“Bokuto, what do you want?” I sigh. Faintly, in the background, I hear Kuroo singing out of tune to Uptown Girl. I can only guess they’re at their usual karaoke bar. 

“Tobio… Hey, brother… What’s up?  _ Man? _ ” Bokuto slurs out. 

“You’re drunk.” 

“ _ Woooooow!  _ Kuroo! We’ve got a fuckin’ genius on the phone over here!” Amidst the busy background conversation and music, I hear Kuroo interrupt his own singing to burst out in ugly, drunk laughter. Bokuto joins him, wheezing into the phone. I feel my patience getting thinner and thinner, running my tongue along my teeth. 

“No, no, for real though, bro.” He clears his throat, trying to make himself seem less intoxicated. Surprise, it doesn’t work. “Come out with us!” 

I deadpan, then glance around the room. Alright, where’s the camera? This has to be a prank. Is Bokuto so unbelievably drunk that he’s forgotten I have a  _ daughter?  _

“Bokuto, I thought all the shi-  _ stuff _ you’ve said before was stupid, but that sentence really took the cake. Congratulations, you beat yourself at your own stupidity.” As I talk, I turn around and hold up a finger to Kaori. She nods a few times, then grabs her book. I get up from the bed and walk out to the balcony. The stars illuminate the deep, dark night sky. It’s quite beautiful, actually. But cold. I hug my waist with one arm, pressing my sweater closer. 

“Awww, c’mon, Tobio! Don’t be a… Kuroo, don’t fucking touch that, dude! Uh… Yeah, uh, Tobio! Don’t be a buzzkill!” Bokuto garbles, nearly yelling at the top of his lungs overtop the echo of Kuroo’s drunken singing. He screeches with laughter as I don’t even bother to reply, and sings along with a verse from a song I don’t recognize. Bokuto asks if I’m still there, and honestly, I almost hang up instead of giving him the pleasure of a response. 

“I have Kaori to look after, dumbass.” I snap instead.

“Yeahhh… I guess so…Why don’t you get a babysitter for her or something? Do you even remember the last time the Dream Team went out for a good ol’ fashioned karaoke night?” The booming music and conversation begins to wade in the background, then I hear a door faintly slam. I’m guessing he’s outside now. 

But he’s right. Kuroo, Bokuto and I haven’t, I guess, “partied” in a long time. Like, a few years - probably two. Kuroo would always start the night with saying he wasn’t going to get drunk,  _ every time _ , but would end up more fucked up than Bokuto and I combined. Then Bokuto would follow in his footsteps. Then we’d end up at Taco Bell at 3AM and crash at Kuroo’s place. It was… a lot of fun, actually. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it. 

“For the last time, I told you to stop calling us the Dream Team.” I snort under my breath. Bokuto pauses for a moment then sighs heavily. 

“You don’t laugh anymore, man.” 

“What?” 

“Since you started seeing that person. You never laugh or even, like, smile anymore. It always looks like you have something on your mind. It sucks, man! Even Wakatoshi gave me a look the other day, like he was saying, y’know, what the fuck?” Through his jumbled words, I hear the spark of a lighter and a slow inhale and exhale. I click my tongue and bite the inside of my cheek. Damn it, I try to not make a habit out of it, but… I can’t help it. Behind one of the flower pots we have on the balcony, I reach around and fish out a cigarette from the half empty carton. I grab the lighter from there too, light up, and hide everything again. 

“I’m… not seeing anyone.” I hold the cigarette between my lips and lean against the ledge, running a hand through my hair. From over the phone, Bokuto takes a drag, hacks up a lung, then spits. 

“But the other day..?” I know what he’s talking about. I interrupt him before he can continue. 

“I’m  _ not _ seeing anyone.” I state a little more firmly. 

“Tobio… dude, okay, if it makes you feel any better - I’m drunk. Right now, you could tell me that the fuckin’  _ world _ ’ll end tomorrow and I’ll be too hungover in the morning to remember. I’m supposed to be your best friend, man! I hate when you leave me out in the dark about this kinda stuff.” Bokuto whines, and just from his tone of voice I can tell he’s genuinely upset. He’d get like this in high school too, when I’d be going through an episode and would refuse to look at him, let alone talk to him. He just wants to be there for me. 

Hitoka’s words echo in my mind. 

_ “I have friends here that help me out when I start to feel like that! I know I can rely on them when I need them…”  _

I take a particularly hard drag of my cigarette and tug at my hair in frustration. I always say I don’t want to burden my friends with my problems, but that’s what friends are there  _ for. _ They’re there to  _ listen.  _

“Ugh… Fuck, fine. I’ll tell you what happened, alright?” 

“All ears!” 

“Okay… well… it was about a month ago, I guess.” I start, dropping my hand from my hair and keeping it warm in my sweater pocket, only letting it out to occasionally take the cigarette from my lips. “Kaori’s teacher told her about a bakery down the road from her school. We went, everything’s great, then she wanted to tell the baker ‘thanks.’ So the guy at the counter got the baker, and, man…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’ve never seen someone more beautiful in my life, Bokuto.” 

“Aw, man…” 

“His hair looked so soft and fluffy. Dude, his eyes… it was like… they… they held so much passion - just in his eyes. It was unbelievable. He’s shorter than me too, so he had to look up to talk to me, and just the sight of… him… his body, his hands, his face - I had trouble even talking to him. I fucking met him  _ once _ before going to see him by myself and telling him I felt ‘weird’ when I thought about him. Like, who says that? Who says they feel ‘weird’ when they’re trying to express their feelings? I… I had a panic attack because I was so nervous to see him. His voice, face, hair - everything. I just… broke. He broke me, Bokuto. Now he thinks I’m a fucking freak because I pretty much told him I liked him. He’s probably a homophobe, dude, I just know I never should’ve said anything…” 

I start to trail off, losing my train of thought. I shake my head, biting on to the cigarette a little, and smirk, chuckling to myself. 

“I’m so stupid.” 

“Don’t say that, Tobio.” Bokuto’s suddenly low voice makes me jump. “I’m gonna… try to word my sentences as best as I can, so, uh, bear with me here… But honestly, you’re such a great dude, Tobio.” 

“I don’t wanna hear that shit, man-” 

“You  _ are! _ Why the fuck do you struggle so much with accepting that? You single handedly coped with your parents’ abuse and you’re literally raising a kid all by yourself, dude! You know how fucking amazing that automatically makes you?” Bokuto raises his voice, almost sounding desperate. I lower my head and flick my cigarette off the balcony. “Like… okay, I get it. I get where you’re coming from. You’ve got issues of your own. But don’t go assuming things.” 

“What else could he have meant by turning me down, then? I don’t get it.” I quickly retort, raising my voice in return. 

“Dude…” He sighs. “Okay, what did he say when he turned you down? What did he say?”

I drum my fingers against the railing, trying to dig up the suppressed memory. I nibble on my lip, staring at the moon. 

“He… he said… ugh… He said something like, ‘I’m a different person from you,’ and ‘don’t let me weigh you down,’ and shit like that.”  

“Well, to me, dude, even though I’m pretty fuckin’ drunk, that doesn’t sound like he was turning you down… necessarily.” 

“What? What do you mean?” My breath hitches, my brows furrowing together. Bokuto has to be saying that just because he’s drunk. What other way was I supposed to interpret him making up excuses to blow me off? On the other line, I hear Bokuto take a long last drag of his cigarette and the faint flick of it flying from his fingers. 

“It sounds like he was, like, um, protecting himself or something. Like, he didn’t explic… explic… ex-pli-cit-ly say no? Do you know something that would’ve made him turn you down? Something that’s holding him back?” 

“I… I… He’s deaf. But I told him that it doesn’t change the way I feel about him, so why would he still turn me down even when I told him that? I told him I didn’t care, but he still…” 

Bokuto suddenly bursts out in laughter, catching me off guard. There’s obviously something I’m missing. I don’t know what there is to laugh at. 

“Ohhh- oh, sweet little Tobio. You really don’t get it? C’mon, man, you’re supposed to be the smart guy.” His laughter trails off when I don’t reply, busy wracking my brain for possible answers. “Dude, alright. I can’t say for sure ‘cause I wasn’t there, but if he, like, wanted to talk to you ‘n shit, I don’t doubt he was… fond of you, at least. If he’s deaf, and he said those things, he was obviously scared.” 

My body tenses up. 

“Scared of what?” 

Bokuto chuckles again. 

“Probably scared of you falling for him, then realizing you don’t like him ‘cause he’s deaf. You- you said you didn’t care, but how is he supposed to know that for sure? You coulda been talking out your ass for all he knew.” 

Shouyou… scared? That stupidly perfect little ray of sunshine, scared? I think back to the first time we met. He was so happy, so cheerful… then I remember that blank look he gave me when Kaori and I were leaving. It was like he was thinking about something. It was a surprise to me, though, to see his face so empty. Could he have been thinking of the same things that I was? Was he happy to see me when I went to meet him by myself? Did he want to accept my feelings, but felt like he couldn’t? 

Is that why he turned me down, to protect himself from getting hurt? 

“Tobio?” Bokuto calls out. “I’m gonna head back inside. It’s freezing and I don’t want my drunk to go away. Hope I helped. Love ya, ‘night.” 

The dial tone rings in my ears, and I’m utterly speechless.

I slowly drop the phone from my ear and lock it, sliding it into my sweater pocket. If there’s the odd chance that Bokuto’s right, and Shouyou turned me down for that reason… Is there something I can do to convince him otherwise? Would it be rude to pursue him, even after what’s happened?

Why the fuck did I have to go and catch feelings when I’m so blatantly romantically inept? 

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

 

Bokuto conveniently happened to remember our conversation from the other night well enough to recall it to Kuroo, who confronted me about it early on Monday morning. Bokuto decided to take Keiji under his wing for the day while he was busy with a lengthy appointment, Wakatoshi closed himself off in his office as usual, and other than that, the shop was dead. I was in the midst of sweeping, keeping to myself, when Kuroo surprised me with a flick to the back of my head. 

Because of mine and the drunkard’s exchange the other night, instead of it helping (which I thought it would), it kind of made everything worse. I started to shift blame onto myself, delving back into my memories and replaying possible scenarios. I wonder if he would’ve had a different response if I’d phrased it differently. My thinking does me no good. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

Kuroo pulls me into the staff room and sits me down. He leans against the wall and crosses his arms, looking down at me as I slightly hunch into myself, trying to avoid as much confrontation as I can. My efforts are futile. 

“You’re usually stronger than this, Tobio. I’ve never seen you this messed up over someone before.” He sneers playfully.

“Shut the fuck up.” I bite back and whip my head to the side, refusing to look at him. 

“Touchy.” Kuroo pauses, then sighs. “I’m sorry, dude. You know I’m not really good with giving advice. But from what Bokuto told me, as your friend, I’m pretty obligated to help you with this, don’t you agree?” 

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about? I’m already feeling shitty enough about it.” 

“Alright, alright. Just listen to me.” He takes a big, deep breath, and I hear him scratch his head. “Okay. So… correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve never really had a, uh, ‘special’ person in your life, right?” 

I lower my head and glare at him from underneath my bangs.

“I’m not being an asshole this time, I promise.” He says. My dark gaze lingers for a moment, then drops to the floor. 

“No. Not really.” I exclude the boy from my teenage years. He was the only one, I guess. 

“Do you know what to do in those kind of situations? Like, where you encounter someone you like and have to say something?” 

“Apparently not. I fucked up, so I obviously don’t.” I grit out. 

“Bokuto told me he’s deaf. Is that right?” Kuroo inquires, pressing further. Even talking about it is like throwing salt in a wound. I just nod. “Alright… well, I can’t say that I have any experience with deaf people, but maybe, to, like, relate to him in some way… do you know sign language?” 

I sigh and hang my head lower. 

“No.” 

“Why don’t you learn?” 

In the silence between us, my eyes bloom wide open. I remember vividly Shouyou telling me he would only weigh me down with his disability before he left, weeping. The stars begin to align. I recall Bokuto telling me that he’s most likely just scared of getting hurt. If I can prove to Shouyou that I’m serious about this and just learn some basic sign language to relate to him, that would surely ease him of his worries, right? But… a normal person wouldn’t just up and learn a whole new language just to make someone feel comfortable. Fuck. Fortunately, I guess I’m just not normal. I need to do this. I should’ve thought about this long ago. 

Doubts begin to grow and quickly cloud over my hopes. What if he thinks it’s weird? Creepy, even? What if, because of last time, he’s already told Koushi and Hitoka not to let me back in? 

“Tobio.” Kuroo’s voice startles me and makes me jump. I sigh again and slowly sit up, running a hand through my hair. “I know you’re having doubts, man. I can see it in your face. But listen, if you’re serious about this guy and want to try and make it work… I think this would help reassure him that you’re not just some douchebag looking for a fuck.” 

I stay silent for a few more moments, then finally lift my gaze up. Kuroo offers a soft smile. 

“Do you honestly think it would work?” I ask shyly, my voice low. He purses his lips, hums to himself in thought, glances up to the ceiling, then looks back at me. 

“I think it’s worth the try, man. For sure. If he rejects you, then you’ll just have to come to terms with it. But you, Tobio…” Kuroo holds his gaze to mine, then dips his head down, laughing to himself. 

“What?” 

“You’re so blindly in love. It’s disgusting. Just learn to smile like a normal fuckin’ person and he’ll be all over you.” 

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Since that day, I ended up actively practicing sign language for the next month and a half. There was so much information about it online, like all sorts of videos and articles - even pictures. It was so interesting. I got shamelessly hooked right from the get go. I eagerly read and reread, over and over, lists of what precautions to take in order to have inoffensive conversation with people with deafness. I printed out pages of articles I liked and memorized them in bed before passing out and repeating the process the next night. I laid out a path for myself and I just had to practice what would get me to the finish line. That is, if the finish line is even there. I was willing to risk taking the chance.

Actively practicing sign language everyday wasn’t an easy task in the slightest. But I was far too deep by then to stop. Though, there was, and still is, that doubt in the back of my mind. I constantly wondered if all of this would be futile, and if I ever even had a chance with Shouyou in the first place. But, unfortunately, ever since Kuroo spoke those words I was dreading to hear, I slowly began to realize he was right. 

On a rainy Friday evening after I’ve picked up Kaori from school and showered, gotten dressed and made dinner, I say those magical words that makes her face light up in an instant. I dress her in her rain jacket and boots, and hoist her up onto my hip. I grab my keys. 

It’s now or never.


	5. Good Things Come To Those Hopelessly In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Towards the end of the chapter, there is a scene that could possibly be triggering. If you are uncomfortable with rough sex bordering rape, please stop reading at the line: "The image of the blonde boy slips into my mind."

Thick, dark clouds swarm and merge together, mercilessly spitting heavy droplets of rain down below. Kaori whines against my shoulder, grabbing the edges of the hood of her raincoat and pulling it down over her forehead. I hold her a little tighter, rushing from the apartment lobby to the parking lot. Speaking over the rainfall, she promises to buckle herself in, so I carefully place her in her seat before jogging over to the driver’s side. I slam the door shut and sigh, running a hand through my sopping hair. Water speckles the steering wheel and adds to my damp jeans and jacket. 

I turn to a fuzzy radio station before setting off, and stretch back to double check Kaori’s seatbelt. She whines and squirms and shoos me away, so I pause for a moment then go for the kill and tickle her side, smiling at her joyous laughter. 

On the road, even over the sound of the radio, I hear the low, guttural grumblings of thunder slowly begin. It didn’t feel like there was any wind before though, so I assume the storm won’t be lasting long. Kaori still hates it regardless. I periodically glance up into the rearview mirror at her, wishing I could do something about her furrowed brows and worried glimpses. But I know as soon as we reach the bakery, she’ll be head over heels and forget all about it. 

When we pull into the parking lot, Kaori begins her regular cheers and the storm slips her mind. I know her like the back of my hand. 

It’s ten minutes until closing and there’s no one inside that I can see, with the exception of Koushi busily wiping down tables. I park in my regular spot. 

I’m nowhere as nervous as I was months ago, my heart not ready to burst out of my chest or my pulse about to deafen me. I’m strangely calm. I suppose it’s either thanks to the wait, Kuroo and Bokuto’s advice, or my newfound language. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, but I’m not about to argue. 

I hurry to Kaori’s side and hold her against my chest. She winds her arms around my neck and keeps her head down, as do I, peeking up through my dripping bangs. I push the door open and we’re immediately welcomed by warmth and the scent of fresh bread. It brings me back to our first visit. 

Before setting Kaori down, I stand and watch Koushi busily rearrange a centerpiece on one of the tables while he blindly welcomes us. 

“Hey, guys,” he greets, “just to let you know, we’re closing in a few… minutes…” He gazes over, eyes opening wide on sight. Koushi stands up straight in shock, but immediately breaks out of it and twists his lips into an overjoyed grin. His cheeks glow pink as he sets down his spray bottle and cloth and rushes over to us. 

“Wow, you two! I never thought I would see you guys again! Oh, it’s been too long.” Koushi exclaims, high-fiving Kaori then holding her smaller hands in his. I smile a little and chortle under my breath. She shrinks her hand away, so I set my daughter down and watch as she repeats the familiar motions of sprinting up to the display case and ogling at everything. Koushi giggles, raising his hand to his mouth, almost like he’s trying to mask his happiness.

He redirects his attention to me after a few moments and offers a softer smile. 

“I honestly thought I’d never see you two again, Tobio. We missed you around here.” 

I nod and purse my lips. My bangs actively drip, so before I can even say anything, Koushi shushes me, whisks away to the front counter and comes back with a dry cloth in hand. He assures me it’s clean and pushes it into my palm, sandwiching it down for a few moments before pulling away. I simply nod again and thank him, wrapping the cloth around the ends of my hair and squeezing.

“I’m surprised you say that so casually.” I say, slowly working the cloth around my head. Koushi cocks an eyebrow, then dips his head down for a quick moment and sighs. 

“Well, to be honest… no one really told me what happened. I know  _ something  _ happened, and I know that Shouyou was upset for a while, but other than that, everyone kind of kept their mouths shut about it.” He explains, then crosses his arms and sends another smile my way. “But you’re here now, so I can finally get some answers.” 

I lower my gaze to the ground and feel a smirk curl my lips. 

“It’s a pathetic story. I really don’t think you’d be interested in hearing about it.” 

Koushi  _ tsk _ ’s at me and rolls his eyes, making me look back up in wonder. 

“Of course I want to hear about it. You disappear for, like, two months and expect me to just ignore that? What if something serious happened to you?” He asks, his tone of voice reminding me of a concerned mother. “Just let me… then we can…”

He trails off, then steps around me to lock the door and turn off the glowing “open” sign near the entrance. I finish drying the ends of my hair and pat my pants down as Koushi dances back to his spray bottle and cloth and puts everything back in its place. I switch hands with the damp cloth and slip off my leather jacket, rolling up the sleeves to my black turtleneck underneath. I drape my jacket over a nearby chair and walk my way over to where Kaori eagerly awaits. Koushi stabs his arm through the air overtop the display case with his palm open, then motions his head down. I hand him the wet cloth and crouch down next to Kaori. 

It takes very little effort for Koushi to convince me that whatever her and I have is on the house. He crouches down on the other side of the display and slides the door to it wide open, picking out a handful of treats that Kaori points to. I guide her over to a table with a full plate and set it down in front of her. After a few minutes, Koushi pulls up a chair to our table and sets down a hot mug of hot chocolate in front of Kaori and a cup of black coffee in front of me. I’m genuinely surprised, and my mind goes blank for a moment. 

“Don’t worry about it, Tobio. It’s literally my job.” He ends up saying first, looking across the table to me, signature warm smile gracing his lips. I just sit still for a few more moments, then take a careful sip. Koushi leans forward on his elbow and rests his cheek in his hand. “Now, story time.”

At first, I’m reluctant. I don’t necessarily want to discuss my poorly-worded feelings or get personal, but it genuinely feels like I have no choice. Koushi eats up every word I say and gives nods every few minutes, sprinkling in “yeah, of course” or “wow, yeah” here and there, but in general, isn’t completely taken aback or disgusted with what I tell him. In fact, his face completely softens once I explain my anxiety upon seeing Shouyou, the man I like, and blatantly confessing to him on our second meeting. 

Kaori mostly keeps to herself, slowly working at her sweets and making characters with her hands, speaking under her breath as to not disturb us. I feel thankful that she does. That way, there’s no way she can hear me admitting to Koushi multiple times that I’m weak. I didn’t want to say it aloud, but I had to. Because I am. I explain mine and Bokuto’s conversation, as well as the realization I had with Kuroo, and lead up to what research I’ve been doing. 

“So… what did Kuroo tell you to do to make things better?” He eventually inquires, watching me as I sit back a little and take a deep breath. I try to do it from memory, thinking of the times I practiced by myself in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. 

Koushi’s eyes widen like saucers, his jaw slacking completely. I mouth the words in tandem with the clumsy motions of my hands and formulate the sentence: “I have been practicing sign language.” 

As I lower my hands down into my lap, Koushi blinks blankly at me. He licks his lips then goes to speak, but Kaori cheerfully interrupts. 

“My daddy’s been doing that for a long time! I think it’s like a weird dance or something.” She exclaims, then returns to muttering under her breath. Koushi drags his eyes away from Kaori and throws his hands into the air, flailing them around in an attempt to express himself. He grins ear to ear, trying to formulate words. 

“Y-You’ve been doing that for the past few months? Tobio, that… that’s so… sweet!” He settles, his eyes glistening in the dim light. “Oh my god, am I crying? I’m crying.” He pulls the sleeve of his shirt over his hand and dabs the corners of his eyes. 

A small, proud smile curves my lips. Judging by his reaction, I can only assume what motions I made were correct. But then again, he might not even understand the language himself. He might just be crying because of the “romantic” gesture. The true test is coming face-to-face with Shouyou and showing him my true, absolute feelings through the formation of my fingers. 

“Um… oh my god, I can’t believe it. Wow…” Koushi sniffles, his cheeks and under eyes growing red. I snort under my breath, finishing off the last few drops of my coffee, licking my lips clean. 

“You know what?” He says. “He’s in the back, probably washing the last of the dishes right now. I’ll stay here with Kaori. You… you go show him what your true feelings are, alright?” 

I want to say that my heart leaps into my throat upon hearing that. I want to say that I get so dizzy I can’t stand, I sweat through my shirt, and I suddenly acquire a incredible headache. 

But it doesn’t happen. 

I stand up from my seat and walk through the kitchen doors, heart at ease. My stomach should be twisting into a tight knot by now; I should be feeling nauseous. I should be feeling a lot of things. Instead, I feel light on my feet. I’m confident - a feeling I don’t experience often. A feeling I only seem to get when it comes to Shouyou. It feels strange. I embrace it.  

From across the cluttered kitchen, I make out a bright orange tuft of hair bouncing back and forth as the sound of running water and dishes clattering hits my ears. I see Shouyou’s pale arms, covered with flour and soap bubbles, his sleeves rolled up just above his elbows. The sink cuts his body off from the waist down, but I can tell he’s dancing just by the motions of his head and his soft, stuffy voice singing random words. 

He’s beautiful. 

Even with his head down, I can still make out his pretty pink cheeks and, possibly, permanent flour stains blending in with his blush. I start to walk towards him. 

He’s so beautiful. 

Shouyou notices my presence and pops his head up, a grin on his lips. 

He’s so incredibly beautiful. 

Shouyou’s smile slowly fades and his dancing stops. He stares at me, incredulous, like he’d witnessed my death and saw me rise back to life. I take a long, deep breath and prepare myself. Slowly, I raise my hands and motion them as smoothly as I possibly can.

His lips part, eyebrows drooping. In the horrible, bright fluorescent kitchen lighting, I see Shouyou’s eyes gloss over. With shock upon his face, he watches me say: 

“Please forgive me. All I want is to be with you.” 

We stand a few meters apart, simply staring at each other. I try as hard as I can to seem stoic, nonchalant. My hands curl into tight fists by my sides, my breaths turning shaky, feeling frustration start to burn a hole in my chest. Shouyou doesn’t move. Besides the running water, silence engulfs us, somehow making our unbreakable eye contact the strongest force in the world. Everything else disappears. Everyone else disappears. It’s just him and I. 

Tears slip from the corners of his eyes, running down his cheeks and meeting at his chin. I clench my teeth, my eyebrows furrowing tight together, fighting back the overwhelming urge to… to… do  _ something. _ Run to him, scream, storm out - I don’t know. I’ve never experienced this feeling before in my life. It’s so nerve-wracking. It’s like perfecting a set in volleyball, hearing the dry slap of the ball against the hardwood on the opposite side of the net. It’s thrilling, almost. 

Shouyou’s broken sobs nearly push me to the edge. I tense up immensely, holding back my own tears threatening to spill over. His face breaks out in an overwhelming amount of emotion, dragging his arms out from the bubbly water. 

He’s so…  _ beautiful.  _

Shouyou holds his head down and takes quick strides towards me. I brace myself. I expect him to reach up and slap my face. I expect a shove, a fight, but it doesn’t come. 

He flings his arms open wide, sending soap bubbles flying into the air and presses his body against mine, holding me with trembling arms.

Shouyou howls into my shirt, his chest heaving to catch his breath. He clings desperately to the back of my shirt, hands shaking, trying his hardest to pull me closer to him. I almost don’t comprehend what’s happening. I stand still, arms still stiff, hands still clenched into tight fists. 

“Tobio…” He whimpers, finally pulling me back into reality. I lower my gaze into his fiery hair and slowly wrap my arms around his waist. He’s so warm. I bury my face in his soft hair that smells of vanilla and struggle to breathe, holding him so impossibly close against me. We grasp around for more of each other, the only necessity in our mind to hold the other closer. 

I very quickly lose track of time. We stand against each other, really realizing what’s happening for, what seems like, hours. Shouyou eases on his hold and drops his arms a little to hug my torso, my hand rising to his back and slowly rubbing up and down to soothe his erratic breaths. He stopped crying a while ago, but whenever he goes quiet, trying to control his breath, it feels like he’ll start up again. Instead, he nuzzles his face deeper into my chest. 

“You smell nice.” Shouyou’s voice from below startles me, and slowly but surely he pulls his face away and tilts his head back to gaze up at me. His eyes are bloodshot and weary, face stained with tears. I chuckle softly and smile. I take my arm from his waist and pull my sleeve over my hand, as Koushi did before. I carefully dab his cheeks and corners of his eyes, and he lets me, leaning in to my touch. 

“Were you surprised?” I ask. I let my sleeve slink back and cup his cheek with my hand, leaning down to press our foreheads together. He’s sweaty. 

“Yes!” He exclaims. “Even… seeing you… it was the last thing I expected to happen today. Then, the whole… like - wow… Did you always know sign language?” 

“Well,” I start, feeling heat rise up my neck. “To be honest, I learned it for you. I practiced it for a while.” 

Shouyou strains his eyes down to watch my mouth and holds me closer, his complexion matching mine. 

“You are… such a weirdo.” He chuckles, his warm breath fanning over my lips. I stroke his cheek and resist the urge to kiss him. It’s painful to fight it off.

We talk for a while, I don’t know for how long. He talks about work and about how often I was present in his thoughts, and I do the same. It’s so comforting to hold him close, feeling every breath he takes and his warm body against mine. I don’t want to move. So I don’t. But Shouyou does, and fixes his hair and chef’s jacket to distract himself from looking me in the eye. 

“So…” I say, rubbing the back of my neck to get his attention. “Do you… accept my feelings?” 

He just grins and tells me he wants to see me sign again. I turn a deep red. My hands move clumsily and bump into each other, but Shouyou loves it. He starts giggling, making me start to feel frantic, so I stop. He gently takes one of my hands and presses it against his chest. His heart is absolutely racing. 

“I can’t say no now, can I?” 

I can’t help pulling him against me one more time and breathing him in. I encase his head and neck within the crook of my arm, cupping the back of his head with my hand, and press my other hand to his lower back. I grip his jacket, fending off the incessant urge to nuzzle against the side of his head. Shouyou giggles, dipping his head against my chest and rests his small hands on my back, toying with the fabric of my shirt. 

“Date me.” I whisper. “Date me. Be mine.” 

I know he can’t hear me. 

“Sleep in my bed. I’ll make you breakfast. Kiss me. Be mine, god damn it…” 

Shouyou leans away from the embrace and trails his hands down my arms as we grow further apart, and curves his hands under my wrists to hold my hands. It’s brief, before he leaves me completely. He flashes me a light smile, then holds his hand out in front of him. I bring my eyebrows together. I start to lift my hand to place it in his, but he swats me away and watches me expectantly. 

What?

He flicks his fingers up and down against his palm and I just cock my head. Shouyou pouts then plants his other hand on his hip. 

“Phone, Tobio.” 

Oh. Right. 

I fish my phone out from my pocket and give it to him. He hastily types in his name and number, adding in a cute sunshine emoji next to his name. Huh, I guess he’s self-aware. I do the same with his phone and leave out the emoji; I’m not good with those, never was. 

He shyly tells me he has to get back to work, but I stop him and ask him when I can see him again. 

“Well, you pretty much already know where I am most days. But, I guess, if there is a day I’m not here, then… I will text you… because that’s what people do… when they like each other, right?” 

My face flushes red and the tips of my ears feel hot. I rip my gaze away from him, but nod a few times. Shouyou watches me, just as flustered, and nods himself. He seems to debate with himself for a minute, but comes to a decision and walks up to me for the last time. I slowly lift my head and carefully watch him, my face still burning. He reaches up and stands on the tips of his toes to cup my cheek. I’m suddenly hypersensitive and feel every movement of his, and feel his gravitational pull. I crane down, coming within a breath away from Shouyou’s face. 

He ghosts his lips over mine, and I can feel the slight touch when he moves. I feel his lips curve into a smile, one that shows teeth. 

“I will be seeing you, Tobio.” 

 

 

* * *

  
  


Shouyou and I keep in touch, texting each other a few times a day, trying to accomodate to each other’s hectic schedules. As time goes on, I slowly grow accustomed to his good morning messages and obvious eagerness to talk to me; regardless of our totally not corresponding days, we always seem to make time for each other. It’s extremely foreign territory. My heart leaps into my throat every single time my fingertips dart across my phone screen, trying to talk without sounding desperate, rude, or bored. It’s hard. I’m not used to being conscious of my choice of words, I just speak. My tone of voice and vocabulary is fairly limited and just naturally uncivil, unless I’m speaking to someone of higher superiority. 

It’s the voice in the back of my head, lingering. 

Shouyou has yet to comment on my tone and word choice, besides telling me that I always sound like I have a stick up my ass. So, unless he’s hiding something - which, considering him, I doubt - it seems like… I’m doing well so far. It still baffles me sometimes when I think about the whole thing, though. My efforts miraculously managed to pay off, and now I… well, I don’t know what mine and Shouyou’s relationship is, really. But I like him. I know that much. Kuroo laughs at me and teases me that I’m in love, but I can’t tell. What I feel between Shouyou and I is vastly different from what I felt with the boy from volleyball. I was in love with him, I know I was. 

Yet… 

I cringe, disgusted at the thought of Shouyou and I doing what that boy and I did, and acting how we did. Is it really love that I feel for Shouyou if the feeling is different? 

I get tingly when I think about his touchable hair and warm breath. I yearn for his touch constantly, at night, just wanting to feel his chest against my back, arm draped over my hip, our legs tangled underneath the covers. We haven’t kissed. We haven’t been intimate in any fashion. For some reason, I want to, but when I see him in person, I’m an absolute trainwreck when it comes to merely holding his hand or even unsubtly brushing our shoulders together. 

I never felt like this with the blonde boy. 

I wait for Shouyou to insult me, I wait for him to put me down. But it never happens. No matter how much we talk, it never happens. I wonder if it’s  _ him _ that feels different than I do, because… what that boy and I had… that was true love. I wonder if Shouyou feels pity for me, only playing along to make me happy. 

This question crosses my mind as Friday evening rolls around, and Shouyou sends me a text, the subject bar chock full of exclamation marks, telling me he has the weekend off - the first one in a few months. 

Kaori shuffles in a little dance on her step stool, lifting her high enough so that she can see over the counter and help dry dishes. From the corner of my eye, I see my phone light up and she leans over exaggeratedly to take a long look, as well. She hums to herself and stands back up straight, rubbing the drying cloth hard against the plates we used for dinner. 

“I like Shouyou-san.” She mutters, turning the plate, drying the back, and setting it down on the counter among the other dishes. I glance down at her for a moment, then pass her another sopping plate, a few soap bubbles clinging to the rim. She takes it with both hands, blows the bubbles into the air and continues drying. 

“Do you like him just because he makes yummy cookies?” My hands dive underneath the water once again, but this time they meet the bottom of the sink instead of more dishes. I pull the drain plug and as Kaori finishes drying her last plate, I take her cloth and dry my hands off. 

“Hmm… no.” She pouts in thought at first, but seems to change her mind. 

“Why do you like him?” I ask. Kaori steps down from her stool and hoists it up to put it back in the corner of the kitchen where it normally stays. She walks back to me, I stack the plates back in the cupboard and grab my phone. 

“‘Dunno. He’s nice.” I lift her up onto my hip and take her over to the couch, settling in as she cuddles against my side. Our favourite after dinner show had just started, and Kaori immediately forgets about me and directs her attention to the television. When I try to press further about Shouyou, she shushes me, and that’s the end of that. 

I try to focus on the show, but I can’t. Instead, my eyes continuously flick down to my phone resting in my hand, its dark screen teasingly concealing Shouyou’s message from me. I quickly give in and unlock it, reading his text in full. Kaori grumbles by my side. 

_ “hi tobio!”  _ It starts.  _ “don’t wanna interrupt ur night or anything but we recently hired some new kitchen staff so i can have a few days off here and there!! i’m free this whole weekend. if u wanna hang out text me!!! tell kaori i say hi!!!! ^-^”  _

I can almost hear his voice within the message - I don’t know why I was surprised that he types like he talks, but I’m not complaining. It just makes my heart skip a beat and makes me yearn for him more. 

_ “Hi Shouyou.”  _ My fingers dance, hovering above the keyboard. Would it seem too eager if I asked to see him tomorrow? 

Three bubbles appear below his text, and another message appears from him before I can even muster a reply of my own. 

_ “let’s hang out tomorrow actually. i have a feeling koushi’s gonna call me on sunday to come help” _

Oh, how convenient. 

Shouyou sends another brief text, no less than a few moments after. 

_ “if u want to of course!!! i just wanna catch up” _

I feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth, an unfamiliar warmness blooming in my chest and spreading throughout my body. This time, I’m no longer hesitant to send a reply. I continue with the one I started. 

_ “Hi Shouyou. I’m free tomorrow. I’ll get my friends to take Kaori out for the day so we can talk alone.”  _

Bokuto and Kuroo may have plans, so I’d have to double check with them, but I send the text anyway and receive a reply as quick as they usually come.

_ “ahhhhhhhh i was hoping to see her, silly!!! why dont we all hang out for the day then we can go out at night or something??”  _

_ “Sure.”  _ I say.  _ “Come over whenever. Kaori usually has me up by 8 anyway.” _

Shouyou agrees and bids Kaori and I goodnight, leaving an abundance of smiley faces in his wake. I do feel slightly nervous to see him tomorrow, more because it’ll be the first time we really spend time together, instead of me coming to bother him at work. At my home, no less. That particular realization sets in, a little harder, and makes my hands start to shake. I set my phone down with a sigh and before things get worse, I get up from the sofa and make my way to the bathroom. I flick the light on, shut the door, and run the faucet with cold water, splashing my face and rubbing my eyes. I take long, deep breaths, zoning in on the sound of water rushing out from the tap. 

It’s real. 

In the last few months, my life has changed so drastically that I almost don’t recognize it anymore. I never thought I’d be the kind of person to struggle with relationships and be so fucking  _ obvious  _ about needing help - seeming weak. It’s never normally like that. Usually I’m the one keeping my friends’ spirits up when they need it, but I was so incredibly focused on Shouyou that I let my emotions show and in turn, made everyone worry. I hate doing that. That’s why I keep my typical stoic facade, to hide my true emotions from bubbling over and concerning those around me.

I can feel it. I’m slowly having my mask slipped off my face and having it shatter on the ground into a million pieces, by the hands of Shouyou Hinata. 

It’s frustrating. 

The image of the blonde boy slips into my mind. 

His arms on either side of me keep him from crashing down on my bare chest, my clammy legs wound around his hips, heels digging into his lower back. With every rough movement he makes, my eyes roll further back into my head, his body jolting mine alive every time he attacks, ruthless. He holds the sleeve of my discarded shirt over my mouth, pushing it down my throat so I won’t make any noise to alert my parents. 

My eyes leak, my shirt coated in my thick saliva. I gag. 

He leans down, repositioning his arms so he rests on his elbows, his face inches away from mine. I feel him closer and slowly focus on him, my vision blurry. He’s laughing. 

“You’re pathetic.” 

He rips the shirt away from my mouth and kisses me, forcing his tongue past my bruised, slimy lips. His orgasm reaches before mine does, he pulls out, ties the condom and tosses it on my bed. As quickly as he came, he goes, fully dressed, flattening out his hair. 

I can’t tell the difference between the running water, slipping down every side of my face, and the tears, escaping my eyes with little effort. 

Surely… Shouyou doesn’t plan to… do that to me. Right? 


	6. Evening of Fate

Shouyou crawls into my bed, silently creeping up on his hands and knees to my unaware back. He analyzes my sleeping form from above, perching on his knees, his legs tucked underneath him. I’m asleep. I don’t know he’s there until I’m gently brought out of my dream induced state with a small hand resting on my waist. I’m such a light sleeper because of Kaori. A few years prior, when she was younger, I debated on buying an alarm clock, but when I found she’d only wake me up in the morning either way, I figured it’d be futile. 

I remain still, my eyes closed, focusing on Shouyou’s feathery touches. His hand trails from my hip, up my bare, inked arm, and follows the curve of my shoulder and around my back muscles. It ends up back at my waist, and for a few moments, he’s silent, unmoving. I repress a shiver, ready to fly up from my toes to my head. I can tell he’s watching me. 

Instead of touching me more, which in the back of my mind I kind of hoped he would, he shifts on the bed and I feel his knees tuck into the back of mine. He’s smaller than me by a fair bit, but can still somehow stretch out comfortably, trying to capture more of my body within his hold. I feel his face nuzzle against my back, his hand resting on my forearm, mindlessly caressing the skin underneath. 

We stay like that, glued together, for I don’t know how long. The room’s dyed black from the night sky, so I can’t even begin to guess what time it is. I feel my body start to go limp again, my mind dying out, but I’m ripped back to reality when I feel Shouyou start to shift against me. 

“Tobio?” He whispers. “Are you awake?” 

I run my tongue over my chapped lips and blink tiredly. I sigh as I slowly turn over to face him, and Shouyou makes a soft grunt in surprise. I feel for his face in the dark and rest my hand on his cheek, ducking my head down and pressing our foreheads together. Shouyou drapes his arm over my torso and pulls me closer. Our ankles knock together, tangled, trying to get as close as we can. 

“Good.” He says softly, cuddling against me. I can hear his smile through his voice. 

I try to see his face in the darkness, but even though he’s right in front of me, I can’t. My hand slithers from his cheek to the back of his head, and I run my fingers through his silky hair. 

“I actually… have a question.” I close my eyes once again and nod against his forehead. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He breathes, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. Nothing comes out until after the third attempt. 

“You don’t think of me like you think of Kei, do you?” 

My eyes pop open and my heart skips a beat. I’m shocked still, then rip my hand away from Shouyou’s head and scramble to sit up, my face contorting in confusion. 

How does he know? How does he know who that is? 

I feel him move beside me, but he stays quiet. My breathing feels thick, coming out in hot puffs, my chest tightening. 

“How… Shouyou - how do you…” I stutter weakly, desperately trying to seek him out, straining my eyes. He shifts again, but this time, he swings his leg over mine and squeezes my knees together between his thighs. Shouyou pushes his hands against my chest, leaning against me. 

“I can’t tell what you are saying right now, Tobio… but I need you to know that I would never do that to you.” He grits out, his words almost hard to make out between his low voice and the stuffiness of it. 

“What the fuck are you saying?!” I try to keep my voice down, but my nerves are getting to me. My hands are starting to sweat, and Shouyou just keeps pushing down. He waits, squeezing my legs tighter together.

The pressure gets to be too much. I almost can’t breathe. I clamber away from him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him onto his back. I move to the other side of the bed, panting. I wish I could see him right now. What the fuck is he thinking? 

Deep laughter bubbles from the other side of the bed. I’m trembling so hard I can barely hold myself up. It doesn’t sound like Shouyou. 

“Oh,  _ my, my. _ ” Someone says, nearly immobilizing me in fear. I try to force myself up from the bed, but my legs just won’t respond. I feel the mattress shift, but I can tell the weight is much heavier than Shouyou’s. He’s not here anymore. 

Whoever it is, they relieve the bed with their weight and I hear their bare feet slap against the hardwood floor. They round the corner and walk to me, the harsh sound of their steps knocking my brain against my skull, disorienting me. The noise ceases once they stop, directly beside me. All I can hear now is the sound of my own laboured heaves, my pulse pounding in my ears making my body throb. 

“You haven’t changed.” The deeper voice mocks, and promptly chuckles afterward. 

“W-Who… who are… you…” My own words nearly fail me. I can’t even think properly. My body urges me to get away, but my brain is so muddled and clouded over that I’m forced to sit there, shaking. 

“Aw, you don’t even remember who I am? How mean.” 

“Get… g-get out…” My voice drops down to a whisper. I’m frozen. 

“Listen to yourself.” They snarl and force me down to the mattress by my neck, pushing up into my chin so it’s even harder for me to breathe. Their body crawls overtop of mine, hovering, their other hand holding themselves up beside my head. Both my hands take hold of their wrist and forearm, weakly trying to push it away. It doesn’t work. My legs kick in struggle, my tired body using the rest of its energy to try and thrash away. It doesn’t work. 

I’m desperate for air, gasping out. My nails dig into their skin, but nothing seems to phase them. 

Another low, guttural laugh spills from their lips. 

Their grip on my throat tightens marginally and I feel my eyelids flutter, trying to stay conscious. My legs dangle off the bed, my hands drop from their arm. 

They lean down, turning their head, and drag their tongue along the shell of my ear. My body starts to go numb. Before I fall unconscious, I hear Kei’s voice. 

“You’re pathetic.” 

I jolt alive, throwing the covers off as I sit up straight in a cold sweat. My breath comes out in hot, quick pants. I take a lengthy look around the room to ensure everything’s in its normal state and slowly close my eyes, propping my head up with my hands. I try to focus on my breathing. It was just a dream. I count my Mississippi’s and after a few minutes, begin to feel my heartbeat ease.  _ It was just a dream. _ Taking a long sigh, I hold my head up and push my wet hair back, cringing at the feeling. 

I hear cartoons blaring on the television in the living room. 

I guess it’s time to start the day. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


After showering and making breakfast together with Kaori, sending a few messages back and forth with Shouyou, my mood starts to improve. I purposely distract myself with conversation between Kaori and I, making plans to practice volleyball outside before Shouyou’s visit. 

I can’t say I’ve ever had a dream that violent - one that felt so unbelievably real. Trying to control my wild thoughts and what if’s, I showered in probably two minutes and got redressed as fast as I could. I didn’t feel safe naked. 

Thankfully, however, I’m no longer dragging my feet, walking with a hunch, expressionless. It was all slight, and it pains me to act that way in front of Kaori, but today I thank the gods that she’s sometimes so unobservant. It cramps my chest to think back to the horrific dream, the mere thought of lumping Shouyou together with  _ him  _ makes me sick _.  _ I try to ignore it’s looming presence in my mind, and that’s when I get a call from Kuroo. 

He confirms that tonight’s a go, as long as I supply him and Bokuto with complimentary drinks. I argue it, then reluctantly agree but warn him not to drink too much because he still has to look after Kaori. I kindly remind him that I’m not only his friend, but his boss. He shrugs it off, assuring me, saying “what kind of uncle would I be,” and tells me that the two will meet at my place at 7-ish. 

A familiar sting of anxiety lingers as I think about today. So many things can go wrong. I might say something bad or do something offensive, and what if Shouyou never wants to see me again after tonight? I wonder to myself, popping my head out of my sweatshirt and slipping my arms through the sleeves, if he’ll even like spending time alone with me. Aren’t I too awkward? Doesn’t he always tell me I have a stick up my ass? What if that’s his own way of telling me things aren’t going to last? 

Kaori charges down the hallway, her sweater on backwards with the pink and white volleyball I got her last year for her birthday in her arms. She tries to run past me, but I scoop her up in my arms, and she drops the ball. I give her a kiss on the cheek, tucking down her stray hairs and bangs, and she wraps her arms around my neck in a hug. 

I flinch. 

She doesn’t notice. I slowly crouch and set her down on her feet, telling her to fix her sweater before we go outside. 

I hate that I’m like this. 

Just as I close the door to our apartment, I get a text from Shouyou telling me he’ll need my address and that he’ll be here in about two hours. Kaori jumps around impatiently, tossing the ball above her head as I reply. I stuff my phone back in my pocket and usher her into the closest elevator. I’m truly praying that my nerves will wear off by the time Shouyou gets here. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

My prayers are answered with a slap to the face. On instinct, I start taking slow, deep breaths when my anxiety feels like it’s wrapping itself around my throat. I practice my coping mechanisms as Kaori and I clean before Shouyou’s here, telling myself what I can see, touch, taste, smell, hear, and, as it usually does, it helps with my mind racing a mile a minute. With my heart, however, it doesn’t. Slipping a few stray pairs of shoes onto the shelves of the rack, I clench my teeth. I’m frustrated with myself as to why I continuously feel such things when it comes to Shouyou. Is it solely because I like him? Or is the fact that a person of interest is coming into my home, and the last time something like that happened, I was disowned by my parents? Perhaps a third option, one I’m not conscious of?

I can’t seem to decide. 

I light a candle in the kitchen and the living room, and slowly the scents mingle together. Shouyou sends me a text that he’s found the apartment and he’s just about to park. After the apartment’s clean and presentable, Kaori sprints down the hallway to her room and slams the door. I plant my hands on my hips and follow her steps shortly after, cracking her door open a little and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Daddy, get out!” She hollers, digging her dolls out of her pink toy chest. I sigh, swinging the door fully open, crossing my arms, lolling my head against the frame.

“You’re not going to hang out with Shouyou?” I ask. She vigorously tosses the toys she wants out of the chest, and goes back in for more. 

“I wanna play with him.” Kaori states like it’s obvious. She gathers most of everything in her arms and passes by me, making her way to throw her toys on the floor in the living room. I sigh again. I suppose cleaning when you have a five year old is typically for naught. Her footsteps get louder as she strolls back down the hallway to get the remainder of her things. I beat her to it and take whatever’s left on the floor in my arms. As she comes back into her room, she hugs my leg for a few moments then shuts the lid of the chest. 

“I guess you can play too, daddy.” She giggles behind me, stepping on the back of my ankles. 

“I was hoping you’d give me permission.” I joke, adding to the pile of her toys on the ground, right in the middle of the living room. Kaori tugs me down into a crouch by my hand and flings her arms around my neck in a hug. I don’t flinch this time, and instead welcome it, rubbing her back.

“I love you.” She nuzzles against my shoulder and tugs me closer. I squeeze her a little tighter and gently knock our heads together. 

“You’re my special little girl, Kaori.” 

We part from our hug, a knock at the door startling us away. Kaori gets there first and tries to open the door without unlocking it. My heart’s gone wild again, but Kaori always finds a way to make me feel better. I’m not trembling like a complete idiot as I stand behind her, undoing the chain lock and turning the other lower lock. She eagerly turns the knob and forces me back a little to open the door. 

Shouyou peers into the apartment and flashes us both a smile. He’s got a small tray in his hands, wrapped with tinfoil. 

Kaori pounces towards him and wraps her arms around his leg to hug him. He chuckles, wiping her bangs out of her eyes when she looks up at him. I stand still, unsure what to do with myself. Should I hug him? Should I say something? My anxiety doesn’t have time to kick in. When Kaori releases her hold and urges him inside, Shouyou lifts his eyes to mine and offers the tray to me, his cheeks dusted pink. 

I’m shocked for a few moments but take it, Shouyou moving his hands to cover mine once I’ve secured it. 

“Hi, Tobio.” 

What was there to worry about?

Shouyou closes the door behind him, removes his shoes and I show him around before we settle down on the floor with Kaori. The tray, filled with homemade cookies that were still slightly warm sat on the counter of the kitchen, accompanying the scents of the candles. 

Kuroo shortly thereafter sends me a text that he’ll call me when he and Bokuto are on the way. The three of us play with Kaori’s dolls (me, rather reluctant to embarrass myself in front of Shouyou), chat at the kitchen counter and snack, and play my old N64 that Kaori recently dug out of my closet. While talking, I happen to mention volleyball and Shouyou’s eyes light up. It doesn’t go unnoticed. The warm sensation I get when it comes to Shouyou spreads fluidly throughout my body. He exclaims he’s been playing it since he was a kid, and it’s his favourite pastime. We simultaneously gush over the sport, and I tell him all about the official games I played, trying to suppress my excitement. I don’t even think about Kei.

While we’re all seated on the sofa, Shouyou wedged between Kaori and I, Shouyou’s hand slips from his lap and down to the couch cushion. I distractedly glance between the movement from beside me and the television screen, and jump at the feeling of the back of his hand and thumb rubbing the hem of my jeans. My hands freeze over the controller for a few moments, glancing down at Shouyou, whose cheeks continuously glow a beautiful pink. He smiles to himself, continuing to watch the television, purposely avoiding eye contact. 

I decide not to give him the benefit of seeing me flustered any further, and proceed playing. 

He doesn’t seem to like the lack of reaction. His hand ends up placed on my thigh, and he gives up there, comfortable with where it’s at. 

We end up tucking away the game system after a while, and Kaori decides she’s had enough of our company. She strolls back to her room, leaving her abundance of toys scattered about. 

I thought it would be awkward, just Shouyou and I. But it’s not. We collapse back on the sofa after snacking a bit more, discussing things from volleyball to work to hobbies. I learn that he has a younger sister who’s in middle school, and that he’s been deaf since birth. He knows fluent sign language and all throughout elementary and secondary, he was relentlessly bullied because of his disability. He tells me there were countless instances where he was pushed to the ground and spat on, kids his age followed him home, and he inevitably transferred schools three times. 

My stomach drops. I can tell he’s never really gotten into it, but how he carries himself while discussing it is amazing. I never would have been able to tell, just by looking at him, that he was also a victim of abuse. I admire his stability and confidence. We both try to talk to each other in sign language, his movements showing the years of practice he’s had with it. My hands still bump into each other, and I have to pause before making certain actions with my hands. 

Shouyou goes as far to correct some of my movements, scooting closer to me and correcting the formation of my fingers. 

When he tells me it’s my turn to talk about myself, I hesitate. Worry floods my mind, but then I realize. It’s Shouyou. I carefully graze the surface of my past, avoiding the more serious matters, delving deeper into the volleyball aspect instead. I tell him about the drawing, Kaori’s adoption, how I met my closest friends, Koutarou and Tetsurou, and how I call them by their family names instead in order to not confuse them together. Shouyou howls in laughter. 

At some point, our hands naturally meet and our fingers intertwine. 

It’s so soothing, just being able to talk to him. I don’t even realize what I’m saying. Like word-vomit, almost. Mindlessly speaking begins to feel so natural, that I let slip that I no longer speak with my parents - I’m disowned.

Shouyou’s face goes into shock and I quickly realize what I’ve just done. Fuck.

“What?! Oh my gosh, Tobio… I am so sorry. What happened?” He asks, worry contorting his features. 

“I… um…” I stutter out, and Shouyou rubs the back of my hand with his thumb. 

“Hey.” He leans forward, catching my eye. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want.” 

I swallow dryly, averting eye contact. I debate within myself. Should I go into it? It’d be awkward if I didn’t, I guess, right? It’s not like I necessarily want or don’t want to, but… it would probably be for the best for him to know. He’s trustworthy. I think. I hope. 

Shouyou’s hold on my hand tightens a little and he shuffles even closer to me, our knees touching. He’s hoisted his legs onto the couch and tucked his feet to the side, so as he comes closer to me, because of the angle he’s at, his body presses against mine. It’s nice. He lifts our conjoined hands and sets them down on his thigh. Carefully, he watches me, and he starts to nibble on his lip in anticipation. 

It should be fine… right? 

I sigh and let my eyes close. 

“I’ll tell you.” Shouyou gazes up at me and watches as my lips move, keeping silent. I speak slowly so he can keep up.

“So… it’s kind of a long story, but I’ll try and explain it as best as I can. Um, so… At a volleyball match after I graduated, I met… this guy… and I guess he was my boyfriend. We hung out a lot, he came over, we practiced volleyball together. My parents were super religious, like, Jehovah's Witnesses or something. I don’t remember. But they were, um… really,  _ really _ strict. And abusive. To me. So, because they were super religious, and they didn’t believe in same-sex relationships, I couldn’t tell them or anything. He and I had to keep it a secret. But one day when he was over, we got caught, um… y’know. Then he left me and my parents disowned me and kicked me out. I haven’t talked to them since.” 

I can’t manage to look Shouyou in the eye, instead flicking my eyes to the floor, the wall, the kitchen - anywhere but at him. I feel his stare boring through me, contorted with sympathy. But I don’t want it; the last thing I ever want is for someone to feel bad for me. I disregard my feelings of the past as being important, save for what happened between Kei and I, and I don’t exactly ever like discussing my feelings either. It frustrates me. It brings forth the should’ve, could’ve, would’ve’s, and knowing I physically can’t change the past irks me further. 

However, I’m not mad at Shouyou by any means. Instead, as I finally look to him, sympathy no longer in his eyes, but understanding, I welcome it. I don’t push it away. His warm, wide eyes break through my barriers and walls I’ve built up over the years, meeting me on the other side with open arms. He knows pain. He blamed himself for his disability, and, just like I do when someone tries to familiarize themselves with my feelings, he pushed me away. It was out of habit. I don’t think he wanted to tell me what he did before. It was to protect himself. 

“This might sound cruel, Tobio,” he starts softly, “but I am not going to say sorry. I feel bad for you, but… I think we are the same in the way that…” 

His brows come together in frustration, trying to better articulate his words. 

“Wait.” He tells me, and breaks away from my hand. Shouyou turns completely towards me on the sofa and makes the admirable, swift motions of his hands that I only I wish I could mimic. It’s so fast that I don’t realize he’s trying to interpret his words into something more. I’m focused on his face, his mouth ghosting words that falls on deaf ears. His eyes dart from mine, to here and there, and I force myself back into reality when he slowly lowers his hands. Shouyou shuffles back into his spot and takes my hand again. 

“We have a similar past in different ways. We have our struggles, but make the best of it. Am I wrong?” He says, tilting his head back a little to look up at me. I shake my head. He smiles. I want to kiss him. 

Something inside me urges my mouth to open, and words that I’ve never spoken aloud spill out. 

“I think I was manipulated into having sex with him.” 

Shouyou’s smile fades, and sadness eats at his features. I believe I can trust him. I can trust him. 

“That guy, my alleged ‘boyfriend’, used to say awful things to me. His name was Kei. He was my opponent in a match, and he knew I was watching him - in  _ that  _ kind of way. I think he used my sexuality against me and used to me to get what he wanted.” I spit out, staring blankly past Shouyou until I faintly realize his movement from beside me. His hand leaves mine once again, but instead he kneels against my side and slinks his arms around my shoulders. 

I didn’t know I needed what he provided to me until it hit me like a rock. 

He holds me tightly and I slowly give in and hug him back, pulling him close against me. 

I don’t feel sad, though. It’s almost as if I’ve embraced the fact, and accepted it as a part of me. It’s just another part of my past. I only wish I had realized it earlier, a month, a year - five years earlier. I wouldn’t have been restless, tossing and turning in bed, my dreams torturing me nearly every night. Last night wasn’t a first. I’ve had many dreams with him, and I always knew something wasn’t right about how I felt the morning after. None before had been that realistic and powerful as last night’s, though. However now that I truly think about it, I guess, that’s really what happened. 

I was manipulated into having sex with him. 

Shouyou’s chest heaves against my shoulder, his head bobbing with sobs. I reposition myself so our chests press together, running my hand through his hair to calm him. 

His episode is short-lived. I gently run my thumb under his eyes, clearing any excess tears that spilled over after he calmed down. His legs settle in my lap, his head leant against my shoulder. I don’t want to let him go. 

Neither of us saying anything, and I think we both realize it’s for the best. We understand each other. Having someone else apologize to you for something you couldn’t control isn’t what either of us want. Wordless comfort is enough. His body close to mine, his presence, is enough. 

My phone, which sits upon the arm of the couch to my other side, lights up and begins to ring. It startles me, I jump a little, and Shouyou notices. He lifts his head, his cheeks and eyes matching red, and I hold the phone in front of us. Kuroo. 

Shouyou doesn’t move. I don’t plan to, either. 

Mine and Kuroo’s conversation lasts no more than a few seconds: “Hey, man, five minutes.” I say, “Sounds good. You’re going to be meeting Shouyou. Be polite.” He says, “Cool beans,” and hangs up. 

I lay my phone back on the arm of the couch and Shouyou gives me a little smile. 

“First date and I am already meeting your friends?” He chuckles, lifting a hand in a loose fist to his lips. My cheeks grow as dark as his. 

“S-Shut up.” 

A  _ date,  _ huh…

“They’re going to be here in five minutes, so let’s get ready.” I say. 

We reluctantly part and stand from the sofa, stretching out before gathering our belongings. I still hear no noise from Kaori’s room, so I assume she’s put herself down for a nap. I excuse myself for a minute to quickly change into a different shirt in my room, choosing a white button-up and roll the sleeves to my elbows. I double-check everything in the mirror before deciding the outfit for the night. White shirt, black skinny jeans with some rips in the knees, and my favourite leather jacket. Good enough. I wonder if Shouyou will like it. 

I confirm my suspicions with Kaori before returning to the living room. She’s face down on her bed, sprawled out, snoring softly. I leave her be, and swipe my hair back upon reuniting with Shouyou. 

He nibbles on his lip, obviously eyeing me up and down. I drink up the attention he gives me with gusto. 

Bokuto and Kuroo barge in after a few more minutes (I always regret giving them a key to my place every time), and pass us, saying their greetings, setting down grocery bags on the kitchen counter. At least I don’t have to worry about Kaori going hungry for the night. I do, however, have to worry about my apartment burning to ashes. 

Bokuto makes the first mistake and accidentally speaks while Shouyou isn’t looking, leaving him awkwardly standing there until he eventually remembers. Kuroo gives us a cheesy grin and shoos us out the door, ensuring all will be fine. Before he closes the door on us, I carefully remind him there is alcohol in the fridge, but hiss out a threat of unemployment if anything happens to Kaori. The two wave us away, and shut the door.

I look down to Shouyou and apologize. 

On our way down to the parking lot, he begins to bring his keys out of his pocket, and I stop him. I jingle my keys that are already in my hand, and feel my lips contort into a smirk when he huffs playfully and crosses his arms. 

“Where do you want to go?” Shouyou asks, buckling himself in. I follow suit, waiting for the car to warm up a little before setting off.

“Well,” I say, turning to him, “I’ve actually been wanting to go to this night market. It’s not far away. Would that be… okay with you?” 

Of course, he beams, telling me anything is fine, as long as he gets to be by my side. I flush, trying to shake it off. Shouyou giggles at me, and when we’re finally on the road, he reaches over and takes my hand again. 

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


I didn’t know what kind of night market it was until we got there. I don’t usually do research on things before going to them, but this time, it was a pleasant surprise. It’s an asian market, a bunch of little food shops lined in rows that go on forever, stands with anime memorabilia, clothes, jewelry, everything. Shouyou’s face lights up instantly at the sight of the flashy lights and signs, unbothered by the amount of people who had the same idea as us. He clings to my hand tightly, pouting like a child when I glare at him as he pulls out his wallet to pay. 

“This is amazing.” He says in wonder, keeping close to me. The overwhelming sound of music and bustle of the crowd makes my ears ring. 

“Yeah.” I reply once, I see from the corner of my eye, Shouyou look up at me in confirmation. He squeals in excitement, tugging me through the narrow gaps of people. 

Shouyou begs me to get taiyaki, right off the bat. I felt like it would’ve been a crime tell him no. As we stand beneath the sea of hanging lights, Shouyou holds his up to my lips, and I burn my tongue, flinching away. For a moment, concern flashes on his face, but when I hold my hand to my mouth, he just laughs at me. With anyone else, I would have been furious. I give him the benefit of the doubt and pout playfully, and holding his hand a little tighter. 

For a few hours, we take our time weaving through the various crowds, getting dinner, looking at knick knacks. We pass a small stand that’s off to the side, which has knock-off jerseys of some famous sports players, and I spot one with the name of a famous volleyball player I used to idolize. I squirm in place, debating on whether to stop, and finally do, feeling no resistance from Shouyou. He feels me tug and he notices the stand, his eyes filling with wonder once again. This can’t be real. He’s an angel. He has to be. 

“I can’t believe they have his jersey! I loved watching his games on T.V.!” He hollers, excitedly following after me. We approach the stand, eagerly looking at all the various memorabilia. Shouyou points to the jersey, and the woman slowly takes it off the rack behind her, laying it out on the counter in front of us. I glance over to Shouyou, fully believing that his cheeks are always pink no matter what. A grin grows on his face and he pulls out his wallet. I squeeze his hand and he looks up to me. 

“Me, too.” I state, the most serious I’ve ever been. His grin widens, and he chuckles at me again. He and I both end up walking away with two of the same counterfeit jerseys, as happy as we could possibly be. 

Shouyou leans his head against my shoulder as we walk, pressing close to me. I smile to myself, wanting to kiss the top of his head. 

We turn the corner, in no rush to end things so quickly. 

I don’t think anything of it at first, but it catches my eye. I try to force down my curiosity, but it bubbles over and I give in. From across the crowd, half-heartedly peering at the stand he’s stood in front of, I see a tall figure. Tall as hell. He’s blonde, that same kind of blonde that I recognize from years and years ago. I freeze in place, snapping Shouyou back to me, our conjoined hands preventing us from separating. 

My heart starts to race. Shouyou asks me if I’m okay. 

The man, standing out from the crowd, turns away from the stand and drags his eyes over the tops of everyone’s heads. His eyes meet mine for a split-second, leave, then return, wide. Shouyou tugs on my hand, gazing up at me with worry in his voice. I can’t move. It’s like in my many dreams. I’m frozen. 

Kei’s eyes narrow, then curls his lips into a devilish smirk. He knows it’s me.


	7. Firsts

“Tobio?” Shouyou calls out to me, voice warped, far away as if he were yelling through a tunnel. The bustle of the crowd jostles me in place, people’s shoulders thumping into mine, but I somehow stay grounded. My brain goes numb. It feels like I’m dying by the force of a hard wind, choking me, drowning my pleas. 

“Please, Tobio, what’s wrong?” He says again, but I’m still seemingly frozen to the floor. Shouyou tugs on my hand, stepping in front of me. He jumps from the tips of his toes, trying to meet my eyes. He manages, but I stare right through him. Kei watches amusingly, holding dainty fingers to his evil mouth, holding back laughter. With the force of my own ghost trying to save myself, I roll my head down, sedated, numb. Shouyou’s trying to drag me away, glancing around, as if something were hunting him. But I suppose that’s what happening. We’re being closed in on, about to be snatched up into the jaws of a wolf. 

My body suddenly stiffens, and I grip Shouyou’s hand so hard he flinches. Our eyes catch. I tell him we have to go. 

He doesn’t seem to understand, but agrees reluctantly, continuing to urge me to talk to him. I lead him blindly through the sea of people, weaving left and right, ducking my head down to detract attention. I yell behind me, keep your head down, and he does, choking back a sob. My eyes dart around the concrete, predicting where others stand without lifting my head to see. I’m starting to become one with the raging pulse in my head, anxiously prodding me to escape. I try. 

I try. I really do. 

The top of my head collides with something and from behind me, Shouyou gasps, pulling my arm back. 

I’m starting to shake. 

From below, I see my shoes, the tips of Shouyou’s, and two black and white  runners in front of me, cemented in place. My heart drops. 

“Well,” the voice from above drawls, “well,  _ well. _ ” I lift my head. Kei towers above me, looming darkly, grinning, showing teeth. Shouyou tugs on my arm so hard I stumble backwards and he catches me, letting go of my hand. He clings to my arm instead, holding it against his chest. Kei looks at him, beyond amused. 

“Oh, you have someone now, do you, Tobio?” He purrs. “Congratulations.” 

Kei slips his hands into his pockets, glancing between the two of us. I felt like I’ve already reached the afterlife, number than I’ve ever been before. Slumped over, limp, given up. I can’t even bring myself to speak. What would I even say in this kind of situation, anyway? Oh, nice to see you. How have you been? Have a girlfriend? Going to school? No. I rack my brain for any plausible reply - absolutely anything - and end up empty handed. Nothing. Does he even deserve to get a rise out of me? A word, a peep? No. I clench my teeth, trying to physically gather the strength to whisk Shouyou and I into the sea of strangers. 

“I’m eager to know: how have you been?” Kei says, narrowing his eyes at me, grinning like a freak. My lips twitch, but nothing comes out. He chuckles, just like he does in my dreams. “I bet you’ve been  _ dying  _ to know what I’ve been up to, right?” 

I release an explosion of breath through my nose I didn’t realize I was holding. The pounding in my head fails to cease in retaliation to my constant train of thought. It booms louder, almost deafening me. A burst of hot adrenaline rushes through my veins. 

“What do you want?” I snarl through my teeth. He laughs at me, shaking his head. It’s as if he’s treating me like some fearsome, wild dog, and he’s a thrill-seeker, welcoming the threat of my presence. 

“Ah, so you haven’t lost your voice! What a delightful surprise.” Kei tilts his head back a little, looking down at me underneath the frame of his glasses. “I’ve just come to say hi to an old friend. You don’t happen to have a problem with that, do you, Tobio?” 

I clench my jaw so tight I’m afraid my teeth will shatter. Prick. I don’t plan to give him any satisfaction whatsoever. He doesn’t deserve it. Not after what he did to me, impacting my life for nearly the past decade. It wouldn’t even be a long shot to compare him to my parents, as much as it disturbs me to say. I straighten my back to seem taller, gathering my wits.

“Fuck off, Kei.” 

“That isn’t any way to talk to an old friend!” Kei teases, dipping his head down, craning his neck. “Your parents didn’t raise you that way, did they?” 

I feel my arm tense, my fist clenched. 

“Now, if I may.” He returns to a normal stance, rustling his hand around in his sweater pocket. I brace myself firmly, prepared to wind up my arm within a moment’s notice. Instead of pulling out a fist from his pocket, he digs out his cellphone and holds it out in his palm to me. I glance down, feeling my body slowly go limp again. “Go on. It’s not like I have your number anymore, anyway.” 

“You’re kidding.” I mumble, eyes wide at his open palm. I don’t see him, but I can tell from his voice he’s smirking like an imp again. 

“Have I ever  _ lied _ to you, Tobio?” Kei retorts easily, eager to push me to my limit. 

“I told you… I told you to fuck off. Fuck off. Leave me alone.” Slowly, I shake my head, feeling frustration gather tightly within my chest. I raise my eyes to his and he chuckles again, darkly, a weird tinge of something in his eyes. He’s always been so unpredictable. Kei curls his lanky, pale fingers around his phone and forces it closer to me. I don’t move. 

“You always have been stubborn. I’ll strike a deal with you. Give me your phone number, and I’ll leave you alone.” He hisses, lying. I can tell. To have a fateful meeting like this, and if I do this one thing for him, he’ll leave me be? No. I know him. He doesn’t work like that. 

“No.” I growl. His eyebrow twitches. He seems to want to hurl curses at me, but gathers himself and sighs. 

“Look at you.” Kei says, fake sympathy dripping from his voice. 

“You were so docile when you were younger. What happened? Now…” He shakes his head, eyes narrowing down, his suffocating dark aura coming down on me like a cloak. “Even more so than before, you’re  _ absolutely pathe _ -” 

“‘Scuse me, but who do you think you are?” Shouyou’s voice startles my attention away from Kei, and I look over at him. His hair bounces as he stomps past me and forces himself between the blonde and I. My hand instinctively reaches out to pull him back and protect him, but he shakes me off. Shouyou’s a mere ant compared to Kei, but he doesn’t seem threatened at all. He guards me as I stand behind him pathetically, unable to do anything. 

“Oh?” Kei’s eyes light up in excitement. “Let me ask first, shrimp. Who do you think  _ you  _ are?” Shouyou’s hands clench by his sides. I silently pray that the blonde doesn’t notice the awkward sound of Shouyou’s voice and mock him for it. I would have no other choice but to take action. 

“I am Shouyou Hinata. Unless you want to be impolite, tell me who you are.” He urges. That familiar gleam returns to Kei’s eyes. 

“My pleasure, Shouyou Hinata. I’m Kei Tsukishima. Tobio and I have had quite a history together, isn’t that right?” In tandem, they both look to me and I quiver. Shock and anger roams freely on Shouyou’s face, as if saying, “oh my god,  _ him? _ ”  I want to hurl myself at him, screaming. But I know Shouyou wouldn’t let me. I suppose that wouldn’t be a good impression on a first date. They both return to their showdown, the ginger extremely tense. 

“You are going to leave us alone.” 

“Why must you sound so serious, Shouyou? This was nothing but a friendly conversation. I thought the two of us were getting along swimmingly, no?” 

Shouyou makes a noise of frustration, earning another throaty chuckle from Kei. 

“If you’re that jealous, I can give you my phone number, as well. We can all be close friends!” He holds his arms out in a “v” shape, still clutching his phone. It frustrates me to no end how casually he speaks, undertones of threats lurking under the surface. He truly hasn’t changed since then.

“There’s no way I’m going to see you again.” He said to me, hands stuffed in his pockets. My hands were wrapped in the fabric of his shirt, trying to shake him. He was unfazed. I know what happened with my parents was something no one would want to experience again, but if he just gave me one more chance, then I could definitely make it up to him. I could. I know I could. All he did was sigh and swat my hands away, taking a step back. 

“Please, just give me another chance…” I begged, trailing off, feeling tears threaten to spill over. My pride would normally prevent me from acting so irrationally, but I couldn’t help it. I was desperate. He was the only thing I had.

“You realize what this was, right? Surely, you can’t be that stupid.” 

I ate at my bottom lip, staring at him.

“What was it to you, then?! You’re the only thing I’ve ever cared about besides volleyball!” I screamed.

“Get a grip.” He grumbled. “If you haven’t realized what this was by now, then something’s wrong with your head.” 

“So everything was a lie? All the time we spent together, the - the music, the volleyball practice… just what did that mean to you?” 

I felt my body weaken. This couldn’t be happening. I could practically feel the space between us becoming bigger and bigger, his interest in me clearly faded. But was it something I had done? Sure, getting walked in on by my parents must have been scary for him, but it should have been more so for me. That alone couldn’t have possibly deterred him in pursuit of me. We weren’t officially dating, we hadn’t gone out publicly together, nothing like that, but… I really thought there was something between us. I loved him. 

That time, at the volleyball match, did that mean nothing to him? How he powerfully pushed me against the damn stall wall and ate my neck like it was his last fucking meal? Nothing? 

“It was a little fun, I’ll admit.” He said, glaring at me when hope refuelled my body. “But this wasn’t meant to… ugh. Why do I have to explain this to you? Get it through your thick skull. I’m not going to see you anymore. I’m not prepared to have you crying on my shoulder everyday for the next few years because your parents are going to be furious with you. That’s not my problem. Never was.” 

Kei turned on his heel, taking one last pitied glance at me before walking away. No matter how loud I pleaded, falling to my knees, he never once stopped walking. I watched with fuzzy vision as he disappeared down the road, and bit my tongue so hard to stop myself crying that it bled. 

Shouyou startles me alive and grabs my hand, returning to his place beside me. He quickly and clumsily winds our fingers together and holds on tight. I glance between the two, feeling hot anger boil in my chest at the mere sight of Kei after the reminiscence. Shouyou and I stand closely together, watching as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, chortling tightly. Had Shouyou said something to get on his nerves? 

“Fine, fine. I understand.” He waves us away, and Shouyou huffs by my side. He turns around, dragging me away without a last word. I stumble for a moment, trying to catch up with his fast steps. 

I’m about to ask what happened through confused breaths, but hear his voice behind me one last time. 

“You couldn’t have picked someone that wasn’t deaf? What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

I’m thankful for the advantage I have against Shouyou with weight and height. I stop in place, hands trembling in raw anger. This had been the last straw. Shouyou whips his head around to scold me, face red in frustration, but blanks when we make eye contact. I don’t feel in control of my body. My mind is set on one thing. 

Shouyou is the first to allow our fingers to part, almost as if he assures me that what I’m about to do is justified. I take no time in turning on my heel, just as Kei had done to me, and sprinted towards him. I dodged through the waning crowd, shoving against stranger’s shoulders, and planted my hand firmly against his forearm, turning him around to face me. 

I swing back my arm and my fist connects with his cheek, knocking his glasses off his face and pushing him to the ground. I stand above him, towering, panting through my teeth. It takes him a few moments to collect himself, bystanders stopping to glance and gasp our way. I don’t care. Blood dribbles down his chin from the side of his mouth, holding his hand to where I hit. 

He doesn’t deserve mere words from my mouth. I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking shocked, sorrowful that I could even  _ imagine _ doing something like that to him - I don’t give him anything else. 

If anyone else has plans to oppress Shouyou because of his disability, I’ll be by his side to help him through it. He won’t have to suffer alone anymore. I’m going to be here to protect him. 

In the distance I hear yelling, “hey, get out!”, so I rush back to Shouyou and take his hand, running away before he has time to protest. We sprint out the exit, people staring in awe at us, but my adrenaline’s pounding so hard I honestly don’t care. All I care about is getting us both back to the safety of my car. So once we reach it, we pile inside and take our time to catch our breath. 

Shouyou frantically looks to me, holding my bruised knuckles in his hand. I sigh, slipping my hand away, reluctantly glancing his way. He must so be disgusted with me - scared of me, for actually being able to cause harm to another person. Honestly, though, I’ve never hit anyone before. In my twenty-five years of life, I have always kept my emotions to myself and suppressed any anger, happiness, frustration. But I just couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone preying on him like that. It was like something inside me snapped. 

“I’m sorry, Shouyou.” 

He lunges towards me, his small, warm hands cupping my cheeks. In a split second, before I even realize, his lips are pressed against mine, hard, boiling over with passion. I try to act as quickly as I can, closing my eyes after staring at his closed eyelids, fumbling with my hands. One rests on his cheek, the other on the back of his head. 

We slowly part, opening our eyes dimly, just looking at each other for a few moments. We slowly reconnect, taking this one more slowly. His lips are as soft as his hands, moving gently against mine. My heart’s been racing since my fist connected with Kei’s face, but even more now that Shouyou’s arms are winding around my neck, pulling me closer. It’s silly. I shouldn’t be so nervous and excited over a kiss. But… again, I can’t help it. I’ve been wanting this for so long. My hand that rested on his cheek now’s trailing around his shoulder to his back. I don’t want this to end. 

Shouyou’s movements slow and reluctantly, he moves his face away from mine. He smiles, sitting back in his seat while I gaze at him in awe. His fluffy hair soaks up the moonlight, his smile as bright as the moon itself. Is it even possible for him to get even more beautiful? 

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” I sputter, utterly confused. 

“I… I don’t know. Thank you for standing up to the person that hurt you the most. I-I was surprised that you actually… punched him… but I have a feeling you did it protect me.” He explains, glancing around, embarrassed. My cheeks light up, forcing down my happiness that’s about to burst out. I shuffle in place to gather his attention again. 

“I did do it… because of that. He said something awful when we started walking away, and I just couldn’t control myself. It would’ve felt wrong if I  _ didn’t  _ do anything.” I grimace, bowing my head to take a long look at the red and purple blotches blooming on my knuckles. I flex my hand. It hurts, but in a good way. 

“You really are my white knight, huh?” Shouyou giggles, holding a loose fist to his lips. My blush grows and I shake my head furiously, earning another laugh from him. “Let’s go home, Tobio.”    
  
  
  


* * *

 

 

 

“Dude, what the fuck happened to you?” Kuroo snatches my hand, holding it up to his face, Bokuto peering over with wide eyes from beside him. Getting home was kind of a chore and it definitely took longer than I thought it would. My knuckles pulsed into my hand and up into my wrist and forearm. It hurt a lot now that the adrenaline was all flushed out of my system and I could actually feel pain again. I drove one-handed for the most part, regretfully unable to hold Shouyou’s hand for the ride home. 

Beside me, he sulks, keeping his distance. He feels bad, I know he does, but I honestly don’t see a reason for him to. I was protecting him because I care about him. As simple as that. 

“Holy shit.” Bokuto says in awe, seizing my hand from Kuroo, making me flinch. 

“Where’s Kaori?” I ask, glancing to the two. Bokuto looks at me for a split-second then returns his attention to my knuckles. 

“We just put her to bed. But dude, seriously, what happened?” He assures, and he and Kuroo switch places. Kuroo leans down a little and approaches Shouyou, startling him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, and Shouyou nods eagerly. Kuroo starts to smile, running a hand through his hair, giving an exasperated sigh. “Tobio protected you pretty well then, huh?”  

He nods again, keeping a watchful eye on Bokuto fondling my fingers, pressing down on my knuckles and asking if it hurt. I can feel the pure tension from beside me, radiating off him, how profusely he wants to apologize. But regardless, I think he knows that from our heart-to-heart earlier that unnecessary apologies are never needed. I hope he remembers it, at least. I would probably feel worse if he did actually apologize. 

We all four group together on the sofa, telling the story of the night. Our twin bags with jerseys sit at the shoe rack, listening to Shouyou’s  _ “pah’s”  _ and  _ “gwah’s”  _ from what he saw of the fight. He looks to me bashfully, telling me that he’s proud of me for being able to do something like that; he’d never be able to do what I did. Kuroo slaps my knee in congratulations, goes to the kitchen, then hands me a leftover beer from the fridge. It’s cool to the touch. I use it on my knuckles. 

I can tell that Bokuto’s feelings are different than Kuroo and Shouyou’s. I notice the way he avoids Kei’s name and dodges around certain subject matter and doesn’t pressure me into going into detail. He’s careful. Tip-toeing around it, almost worried that tonight would send me into a downward spiral. 

By the time a few hours have passed, Shouyou’s curled against my side, his head resting upon my shoulder. He’s been asleep for a while now. Kuroo, Bokuto and I talk about anything and everything - trying to waste time with conversation. I think we all realize it, that we miss each other’s company. Sure, we work together nearly everyday, but it’s different when it’s outside of work. The three of us have been inseparable for years. We miss the old days of getting shitfaced, talking for hours on end, playing video games until sunrise. 

But once the clock turns to AM, Kuroo and Bokuto bid me sleepy farewells, understanding I’m unable to move from my spot. Shouyou’s mouth hangs open a little, his breaths coming out in soft bursts. They wave, gathering their things, and before the two leave, Bokuto gives me a long glance and smiles, mouthing “good job.” I laugh a little under my breath and return the wave, watching the door close behind them. 

A sigh slips from my lips, and I roll my head to the side to look at the ginger. His eyelashes rest elegantly along his undereyes, body twisted to the side so he could lean against me. Soft, almost inaudible snores escape him every few seconds. I keep my hands to myself in my lap, toying with my fingers. 

_ Gorgeous.  _ It’s incredible how he can maintain his beauty, even when he sleeps. 

My eyes trail down his body and stop at his hands. The hands that grasped desperately to mine, hauling me through the market, preventing me from getting any closer to Kei, that took me away from him. He’s taught me so much about myself in these past few weeks of being closer to him - even the past few months; I learned my fears and faced them, the depths of my insecurities, everything. What I knew about myself was only the surface of it all. Yet, he took me by the hand and lead me to the other side, the brighter side. 

I shift my weight and rest my cheek against the side of his head. Slowly, I let my eyes close, the incredible sensation of his radiating warmth lulling me into a sedated state. I don’t know if this was his plan, falling asleep, knowing well that I wouldn’t have the balls to wake him up and send him home, but I don’t really care. We’re pressed against each other, unconsciously feeding off of one another’s presence. 

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


I don’t know how time passes so quickly when I’m with Shouyou. It’s like nothing in the entire world is real, nothing exists, and it’s just us, holding each other afloat. At this point, I’ve lost count at how many times we’ve simultaneously reached for each other’s hands, bumping them together, turning our heads away bashfully. I’ve lost count of our number of texts, how many times I’ve kissed him and he’s kissed me. My memories are fogged over with a terrific cloud of happiness. Whenever he’s with me, it feels like I’m a kid rebelling and staying out past curfew. It’s  _ exciting. _ He makes me heart race, makes me smile, makes me… realize what I have been so unfortunate to miss out on. 

We reserve Saturdays. With and without Kaori (when the guys offer to babysit), we travel. Sometimes it’s a road trip, sometimes it’s a ride into the next town over. It could be a hike, a back-and-forth with the volleyball, a bite to eat - no matter what it is, we waste the day until the sun dwindles and the sky turns dark. 

As we’ve gotten more comfortable with one another, we’ve become more… explorative. Testing the waters. When Kaori is put to bed or I visit him at work just before closing, we kiss until our lips turn red. Hands wander where a stranger shouldn’t touch, caressing skin, pushing two clothed bodies together in a heated struggle, wanting. It’s become normal. On the odd day, we’ll carpool, and after his shift, trying to suppress our breaths under the starry sky as not to alert Kaori, eager fingers will silently grope and knead and dance. We’ve become good at camouflaging our desires, hiding them from wandering eyes. 

My anxiety with him dissipated the night of the market. Hands no longer clammy upon receiving texts, locking eyes, being alone. I still don’t know what about him made me openly spew my hardships, possibly his own openness or welcoming demeanour, but I would be lying if I said I regretted it. Since that day, my life has changed. The dreams of Kei haunting me, abusing me, have diminished to nothing. I don’t jolt awake in cold sweats anymore, worried that my sanity will be in danger. Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi, and even Wakatoshi have noticed my change in attitude. It’s amazing how much someone can affect a life at an unsuspecting time. 

It’s been three months, to the day, since Shouyou accepted my feelings. 

In bed, exhausted from the day, I hold my phone above my face, squinting from the light. I find myself reading, rereading, and rereading again, the words that, even when I blink, don’t disappear from the screen. 

_ “happy unofficial 3 months tobio <3”  _

A smile graces my lips. I shake my head, unable to hold back a small laugh. Cute. 

_ “Don’t celebrate something like that, stupid.”  _

_ “i know ur smiling!! u cant fool me >:)”  _

_ “Shut up. Spend the weekend with me.”  _

_ “u really dont dance around it anymore do u? weirdo”  _

_ “............ but i guess i have no choice but to say yes!”  _

_ “Good. I have something to tell you, so you better not flake.”  _

_ “oooaaaahhhh secrets?! im so good at keeping secrets. dont u worry tobio!”  _

_ “I’m not worried.”  _

_ “good!!!! anyway i have to go to bed. im opening shop and prepping most of the stuff by myself for the next few days. but if i dont stay too late on friday night then i’ll come over then! u have no choice!”  _

_ “OK. Don’t overwork yourself. Have a good night.”  _

_ “thx tobio u too <3 goodnight! xoxo”  _

_ “xoxo? Who are you, my grandmother?”  _

_ “shut up! it was supposed to be cute u weirdo!! go to bed already geez!”  _

_ “OK. Goodnight.”  _


End file.
